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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28124061">A Devil Resides Behind Your Smile</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/InnogenRenz/pseuds/InnogenRenz'>InnogenRenz</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Tales of Arcadia (Cartoons)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Avocado Dad (Trollhunters), Canon is... lose..., Changelings (Trollhunters) Have Issues, F/M, For reasons... and just because..., Forcing someone with a disregard for morals into a position that requires them?, How many father figures can these local teens and creatures acquire?, I love Strickler therefore I will force development down his throat, I'm aware its not canon but that's dumb and literally nothing here is so, Jim and Toby still get pulled in, Minor Draal/Nomura (Trollhunters), Multi, Other, Ships not really the focus, Slowburn to being a good person, Strickler finds the amulet first, Strickler is part stalkling, Swearing, Timeline changes, Troll Dads (Tales of Arcadia), Trollhunter Walter Strickland | Stricklander, answer: a lot, is that a tag?, listen the changeling trio are childhood besties, no beta we die like men, yeah - Freeform, you can pry that headcanon from my cold dead hands</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 12:15:58</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>32,798</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28124061</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/InnogenRenz/pseuds/InnogenRenz</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The amulet, Merlin's greatest creation, the symbol of protection and sacrifice for the good of trolls and humans alike, had done the impossible. The new Trollhunter chosen after Kanjigar's sudden demise isn't what anyone particularly pictured, least of all the new wielder himself. To trolls, an unreliable and weak human; to humans, an aged and mild mannered history teacher with no relevant heroic skills, and to himself? A lie being torn apart.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aaarrrgghh/Blinkous "Blinky" Galadrigal, Barbara Lake/Walter Strickler | Stricklander, Blinkous "Blinky" Galadrigal &amp; Jim Lake Jr., Jim Lake Jr. &amp; Walter Strickler | Stricklander, Jim Lake Jr./Claire Nuñez, Nomura &amp; Walter Strickler | Stricklander, Toby Domzalski &amp; Jim Lake Jr., Toby Domzalski &amp; Jim Lake Jr. &amp; Claire Nuñez</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>85</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>130</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Road Less Traveled</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Fun fact: the title of the story comes from Queen of White Lies by The Orion Experience. I'd recommend listening. I really wanted something from a Mother Mother song but I couldn't find anything that really fit.</p>
    </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Ahaha... this is something I've been kicking around for a bit. I just really enjoy it, y'know? Anyways this is the first fic I've written for this fandom so. Like. Yeah...</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kanjigar was gone, shattered and broken in the early morning rays. A foolish way to go, Bular huffed as he stalked back and forth on the gloriously shaded underside of the bridge. There was no way to get the amulet. Not with the damned sun having risen minutes ago.</p><p>His victory was ultimately hollow. Yes, he had killed Kanjigar the Courageous, the epithet bitter even in his thoughts, but he had not obtained the <i>one</i> thing needed for his father to escape the Darklands. Enraged at everything, he fumbled at his belt, grumbling as he tried not to destroy the foolishly breakable item he'd procured from one of his attached satchels.</p><p>Opening the phone, he squinted at the tiny screen, huffing as he opened the 'call' emblem. Stricklander had put himself on 'speed dial', an odd human term he had barely bothered to remember.</p><p>A jingle rang out, and Bular could not stop the reflexive clenching of his hand as he cautiously jumped back, cracks spread across the screen, shifting lines crossed and stretched over the surface but it did not fall apart.</p><p>"Yes?"</p><p>The impure's voice rung out across the canal, tinny and distorted from the small metal box.</p><p>"There's a problem." Bular muttered into his carefully still palm.</p><p>"Can't it wait?" The changeling snapped, "I'm maintaining my cover."</p><p>Bular roared in response, shaking the cement foundation of the bridge.</p><p>It was beat before Stricklander responded, through presumably gritted teeth, "<i>What</i> do you want?"</p><p>"Kanjigar has been defeated by my hand."</p><p>"Well… that's quite an accomplishment. But I fail to see how-"</p><p>"His body is in the <i>sun</i>, impure."</p><p>"... you want me to go retrieve the amulet."</p><p>He spit out, "What else are you good for?"</p><p>"School is about to start, I can't just abandon my job! That kind of thing raises <i>suspicion</i>, Bular."</p><p>"My father's return is close to fruition and you prioritize educating fleshbags?" Bular growled, "One might question your loyalties, <i>impure</i>."</p><p>Silence reigned for a glorious minute, "I'll see what I can do. You should get out of there before you're seen by one of those <i>fleshbags</i> you so despise."</p><p>"Don't patronize <i>me</i>!" Bular shouted.</p><p>He was met with a dial tone. The impure had hung up on him. With a swift arc, the phone sailed out of his hand and toward the ground, splintering upon impact. Smashed to bits next to what remained of the dead Trollhunter. An ironic smile came to his face, one he gladly kept.</p><p>Bular deftly leaped and caught the steel support beams that held up the weight of the bridge, swinging himself to another with practiced ease. Soon, his father would be free, and together they'd show the surface a fearsome might never before seen, their cities would run red with their blood and they would gorge on the screaming flesh that remained. A beautiful dream that would soon became reality <i>if</i> they could only get that damned amulet.</p><p>The impure had grown more confident, overstepping his place and importance, but he'd been useful. But as soon as he made one mistake… Bular would be more than happy to dispose of him on his father's behalf. Grinning savagely under hidden shadows, Bular made his escape, plotting and roiling for the events to come. The next Trollhunter would not be so lucky, their death would be neither quick nor merciful, and he would relish every second. That he swore on his father's blade.</p>
<hr/><p>Strickler was slowly losing his mind. Maybe it was the lack of sleep, the endless stack of poorly-written essays he had yet to grade, or <i>maybe</i> it was the mindless brute that kept threatening to <i>eat</i> him whenever he faced a mild inconvenience. Could've been anything, really.</p><p>Bular's choice to finally defeat Kanjigar had, of course, happened at 4:30 in the morning. Then the ignoramus called him up and demanded his help like Strickler didn't have a life to keep up. He was still a teacher with social and professional obligations, something Bular never seemed to understand, much like anything else that didn't involve dismemberment.</p><p>Of course, he had taken several minutes after the call to stare blankly at the ceiling, before inevitably heaving himself out of bed. He had been sleeping. Which, for changelings, was something personal, sacred, almost. They didn't need a constant eight hours like humans, that was an evolutionary oversight, Strickler decided. Trolls slept too, but rarely, their energy was derived from their heartstone, and with stone skin and magic keeping them alive, sleep wasn't as necessary. It was treated more as a pastime than a biological need. Changelings, as usual, fell somewhere in the middle.</p><p>Their bodies were already irreversibly altered, twisted by the Pale Lady's machinations, a powerful, apathetic goddess. It was best not to think about her. But the only particularly "good" thing that had come from her experimentation was the reduced need for rest. Only a few hours every few nights, it was meant to be hidden, uninterrupted. They were periods of utter weakness, a concept loathed by creatures whose sole purpose was to exploit such opportunities. Strickler valued his privacy.</p><p>His rest was insufficient, but it could be put off until the foolhardy prince was placated. What he hadn't quite accounted for was calling up the principal to inform him of his possible tardiness and the ensuing argument, and that was after he had already spent half an hour getting ready and sorting his things. There were warnings about "vacation days" (not that Strickler had ever used them more than once or twice in the past two decades) and the “proper channels” to get time off. The man didn’t let up even when he explained that he would only be an hour or so late. Humans.</p><p>It was about two hours later by the time he left, nursing the beginnings of a particularly bad migraine, as he drove in the already too bright daylight. The canal wasn’t too far from where he lived in his apartment, only a few minutes drive. But he'd have to park a block away, at least to be inconspicuous. The monotony he trudged through to maintain his role of teacher and person was mind numbing. Taxes, especially.</p><p>But it would be all worth it to have Gunmar reign once again, to have Changelings truly respected, or feared, either worked well enough. A fanciful idea that seemed to be further out of his grasp than ever before. True, they were close, but close wasn't good enough. Close didn't buy Changelings protection, or power. Close didn't buy <i>him</i> either of those things. And that was the crux of the matter, wasn't it?</p><p>He pulled into a spot, some inane fast food parking lot within walking distance of the battlesight, and stopped his car. Slipping out and locking the door, he glanced around. A mildly busy morning, adults with eyes glazed over from exhaustion, children with an over or under abundance of energy, and the milling about of them all. No one noticed as he quietly slipped into the woods behind the half-industrialized area riddled with chain stores.</p><p>He just had to be quick, though he couldn't use his troll form, Strickler would have to settle for good old cardio and hang on to the hope that he wouldn't tear any of his well kept clothes. Strickler took a certain amount of pride in his appearance, even if it was partially unneeded. Most humans were lax about certain elements, but if he could control it, he made it <i>perfection</i>... or as close to it as he could get. It probably wasn't healthy, then again, very little about his life was.</p><p>His thoughts snapped back into a pinpoint as the edge of the canal came into view, the early sun bathing the washed out cement in an ethereal glow as light crept into the shadows. With little time to admire the view, he glanced up and down the almost endless structure dug into the ground, eyes drawn to the seemingly ignorable pile of shattered rocks. It had to be Kanjigar.</p><p>The bridge hummed above it, alive with the rattling of the wheels and the weight of steel monsters, but there was nothing lurking under it. Bular had truly left. A bit of tension eased from his shoulders as he crept toward the edge of the woods. If he continued along the tree line towards the base of the bridge he'd be relatively hidden from view…</p><p>Quickly, he continued on in the safety the shadows offered, running an absentminded finger along the prickling stone of the bridge where it jutted from the ground, at the place where the canal walls began. With one last examination of the area, he leapt over the sloping wall, landing with his knees bent to absorb the impact. He still winced as he stood to his full height, joints stiff.</p><p>Strickler took a determined step towards the shattered hero, wondering about the probability of the amulet having already found a champion. It was low. But not impossible.</p><p>Shouting came from the woods. Loud, but not frantic or screaming for help, it was… lighter. Young sounding. He watched as something came rushing into view, but there was no viable escape route, even so, he tensed as a bike hurtled through the air and came slamming down in the canal. He blinked. Strickler recognized the boy swerving to stop on the bike.</p><p>James Lake. Technically there was supposed to be a "junior" added to it but Strickler was always hesitant to add it. A plethora of excuses came welling up, he had seconds to cherry pick as Jim finally saw his wide-eyed teacher, recognition and embarrassment clashing together on his face.</p><p>"Whoa!"</p><p>Strickler should not have been surprised that Tobias Domzalski followed soon after. The boys were almost inseparable, where one followed, so did the other. It was endearing if not a bit disconcerting.</p><p>Jim was still frozen from where he'd stopped, mouth open but not quite agape. Caught off guard but not openly rattled. Good. Strickler needed to preserve their odd camaraderie. It was necessary for his cover.</p><p>Still, the boy was shocked enough not to notice as his stout friend went up the wall of the canal before violently coming back down and tipping over on his bike.</p><p>"Ha! How awesome are we?" The metal-mouthed youngster exclaimed, oblivious to his friend's shock from his crumpled spot on the ground, "Awes-"</p><p>Tobias' mouth dropped farther than Strickler thought his jaw would allow, and quickly snapped it shut. Gaze flickering between Strickler and Jim, he gestured with his head for Jim to talk as he began to stand up.</p><p>Strickler sighed.</p><p>"Mr. Lake."</p><p>Jim's head snapped up at his name.</p><p>"I believe class starts in a few minutes. I'd suggest getting a move on."</p><p>It was an easy, familiar tone. A small amount of chastising but not without humor.</p><p>"S-Sure thing, Mr. Strickler." He replied, hands gripping tight to his handlebars. But Jim paused, a new flash of confusion on his young face, "Are you not coming to school today?"</p><p>The lie came easy, as it should've. Dishonesty was so deeply entwined with his existence after all.</p><p>"I had a bit of a personal emergency. It shouldn't take long to resolve, but I'm afraid I'll miss the first period or so."</p><p>"Oh." Jim replied, brightening up, "So you'll be back in time for third period?"</p><p>His stout companion shook his head in shame.</p><p>"Don't worry, Mr. Lake, you won't be forced to suffer the indignity of having some exhausted college student stumble through a lesson about Napoleonic war tactics." It was said with a smile.</p><p>He nodded, starting to move to the other side of the canal, Tobias trailing awkwardly behind, shooting suspicious looks at Strickler. Well, not all kids were as easy to please with the promise of an enthusiastic history lesson.</p><p>But they were leaving, and a weight lifted from his shoulders. They hadn't even noticed the large pile of broken stone behind him, nor had they questioned why a personal emergency had him skulking around a canal.</p><p>"<i>Waltolomew... Stricklander…</i>"</p><p>He spoke too soon. Strickler stiffened, turning sharply as adrenaline roiled in his magicked veins. No one knew <i>that</i> particular version of his name, at least no one that should've been out in daylight without his knowledge. It hadn't even sounded familiar, but it had been exhausted, weary.</p><p>"Mr. Strickler?"</p><p>Jim's attention had been caught. But that was a worry for another time, as there wasn't a person (or troll) in sight, just an empty canal that stretched on for miles with endless forest surrounding it. Nothing but the remains of his former enemy. Unless… <i>no</i>. No, that was a foolish, laughable, <i>traitorous</i> idea. Merlin's amulet choosing one of the Pale Lady's creations? Utterly inconceivable.</p><p>"<i>Waltolomew... Stricklander…</i>"</p><p>Oh. It really <i>had</i> come from Kanjigar's shattered visage. Was it too late to hope for a vengeful ghost? He took a step forward, and found that for the first time in centuries, fear was pressing sticky on his heart. What little remained of it, anyways.</p><p>The dull thud of a bike being dropped came from behind him, echoed undoubtedly by Jim's friend, the two teens flanking his sides with unsure, hesitant steps. The insistence that they should leave died before he could open his mouth as blue light pulsated, searching. <i>For what</i>?</p><p>There he stood, numbly refusing to kneel and search through the rubble. Out of what, apprehension? He was better than that, better than to be frozen over something like this, something so irrational. Strickler could see Tobias squat down next to the pile, tilting his head side to side as he twisted up his mouth into a funny little expression. Jim mirrored the movement at almost the same exact time. They hadn't even noticed.</p><p>"Wow, K-spar!" Tobias practically <i>giggled.</i></p><p>"Wow indeed. Very exciting, Tobes." Jim deadpanned.</p><p>His friend waved a hand at him derisively, "Just because <i>you</i> don't see the beauty in geologic simplicity doesn't mean I should be shamed for it."</p><p>Jim rolled his eyes with familiar exasperation. Strickler had the sense that this was merely a variation of several previous discussions.</p><p>Then Tobias paused, wonder alight in his eyes as a piece of stone fell away and washed his face in saturated blue light. His arm pulled something small and vibrant from the cracked remains of Kanjigar, a weapon that Strickler had only ever seen depicted in musty books and hushed stories in the endless caverns of the Darklands.</p><p>"<i>Waltolomew… Stricklander</i>..."</p><p>There really was no doubt about it, none whatsoever. But the simple fact, the very <i>idea</i> of it all, refused to settle into acknowledgment or anything even remotely close to acceptance.</p><p>Tobias' head turned up, bewilderment coming easy as he said, "Uh… I think this is yours?"</p><p>Strickler, numbly and without much intention, stepped closer, kneeling down as the boy's hand stretched over towards his. The amulet slid into his palm, warm and pleasant despite its metal backing and the utter horror tingling in his fingertips.</p><p>It was beautiful, truly. Crafted by the expert hands of Merlin himself, a wonder of magic and innovation. How Strickler would've <i>loved</i> to study it under any other circumstances. But that was perhaps why the damned thing seemed to offend him even more than usual. Stifling the urge to chuck it against the cement slopes surrounding them, he did little more than tilt his hand for a better look.</p><p>"Ah." He said distantly, "So it is."</p><p>"Is this what you were looking for?" Jim asked, slowly turning his head up.</p><p>The tunneling of his vision, spotted and dark with the barest pinpoints of awareness focused solely on the humming object encased by his tightly curled fingers, made it hard to answer.</p><p>"I…" He swallowed, bracing himself, "I suppose so."</p><p>"Oh. Neat." Jim noted, pushing himself off the ground, "You must have paid a lot for that, uh…?" He turned to look at Tobias, who shrugged in response. "Thing?"</p><p>"Amulet."</p><p>"Huh?"</p><p>"It's… called an amulet, Mr. Lake." Strickler carefully got up from his kneeling position, lightly dusting off dirt and gravel from his slacks in a careful imitation of composure, "Though I don't suppose it looks like anything you've ever seen before."</p><p>Jim shrugged, "I guess not. But it must be pretty important for you to be digging around for it."</p><p>Lie. He needed to lie, quickly. When had his tongue gotten stuck to the roof of his mouth, moisture completely dissipated and gone? This should've been <i>easy</i>. Eventually, the stuttering cogs of his mind pieced together something almost believable.</p><p>"It… It's a gift, from an old friend. Sometimes they think it's funny to go and try and hide it. A sort of game."</p><p>Oh, that was probably the worst thing he'd come up with in centuries. Still, it was <i>something</i>. And it must've worked for Tobias to turn to his friend and mouth 'LARPing' like that was enough to explain the entire situation. Jim subtly nodded in return, and looked more than willing to let the subject drop. Which was fair enough, most students wanted little to do with their teachers lives outside of school. And on that note…</p><p>The bell sounded, ringing out across the area. The two teen's heads snapped up to a panicked attention.</p><p>"I believe you best be off now." Strickler mildly suggested.</p><p>With merely a single glance at each other, Jim and Tobias were scrambling over themselves to reach their dropped bikes and push themselves out of the canal. Within seconds they had wrenched themselves back on the path towards Arcadia Oaks High, the crunching of gears and chains noisily sounding as they pressed down on pedals.</p><p>Jim threw a hand out in a frenzied wave, shouting, "Bye, Mr. Strickler!", just as he disappeared into the thick woods once more.</p><p>Strickler stared after, fixating on the spot where they had disappeared from long after. After a minute of strained thinking, he forced himself to move. Slowly, with a methodical plan for each step and swing of his arm, he made his way to the edge of the canal, angling back toward the parking lot where his car lay waiting.</p><p>With one last glance around the canal, and the eerie sting of being watched finally settling on him, he set off toward the woods. Cautiously, he scaled the cement enclosing the dip in land, balancing easily as he righted himself at the top. It was a shambling silence he pushed through branches and underbrush, no longer worried about rips or stains on his minutely managed clothes, until he was finally back to where he'd left his car in the deserted parking lot.</p><p>He stopped before the vehicle, finally letting his gaze drop down to his tensed hand.</p><p>The amulet had stopped searching, stopped putting out a beacon like a lighthouse in an unending, whirling storm. It lulled into a low glow, finally comfortable with its claim. <i>That</i> almost sent him into hysterics right then.</p><p>Staring with open intensity, something so usually hidden with open body language and a forced cavalierness that fit just wrong enough to notice, he carefully pulled the phone from his pocket and put in Bular's number. The ringtone was mocking, surprising for notes that were always so corporate and vapid, placatingly empty. Now it bit at his false calm, digging into his muted repose with a savage hunger.</p><p>"Did you find it?"</p><p>Strickler swallowed once, still enraptured by the low singing of the amulet, and tightly shut his eyes.</p><p>"No." He said with a hard edge of steel, "It was gone when I got there."</p><p>He tilted it away from his head as Bular shouted a rather impressive and lengthy line of profanities that very nearly blew out his phone's speaker.</p><p>"You mean to tell me that you <i>failed</i> the one thing you were good for?!"</p><p>Strickler felt a deep spike of annoyance, and with bitterly satisfied effort, let it bleed through.</p><p>"Perhaps if he had not been pushed into the sun, in an open, <i>populated</i> area, we would be in possession of it!"</p><p>"You mean to tell me it's already found another champion?"</p><p>It was hard not to let anything after that get caught in his throat.</p><p>With a blasé tone, he replied, "Well what else would explain it's sudden disappearance?"</p><p>"But no troll could grab it, Stricklander."</p><p>"So it seems." He kept his throat relaxed, letting his hand clench up around his phone, "Perhaps it was no troll at all."</p><p>"You think a <i>fleshbag</i> has it? Merlin's creation chose a human?"</p><p>"Well, I doubt it could be anything else. Unless you have a better idea?"</p><p>A muffled growl came through, "Fine. I'll entertain your little theory as long as the amulet gets found. But the only thing less likely than a human being the Trollhunter is one of <i>you</i> being chosen."</p><p>Ice bled into his constricting veins.</p><p>"Hilarious. But impossible."</p><p>With a snort from Bular, the phone beeped and the call ended. The screen was left blinking as he numbly studied it. After a moment, he tucked it back into his pocket, and refusing to look at the pulsating object in his other hand, put that one in the inside of his coat.</p><p>Taking a shuddering breath, he opened his car door and swung inside to sit down. Closing it, he stared listlessly out of the windshield, water streaks marring the otherwise clear view of the forest.</p><p>Finally, he let his head thump on the steering wheel. <i>What in the world was he going to do</i>? The amulet had chosen its champion alright, just not the one it should've.</p><p>He was a changeling, a creature despised by both humans and trolls alike, built bit by bit on betrayal and the unwavering selfish need to <i>live</i>. His kind were puppets, toys of Gunmar, strung along for the vague promise of respect and freedom. He was more than aware of his wavering usefulness, the precarity of his position was not lost on him.</p><p>Gunmar needed the amulet, but Bular was utterly insatiable with his bloodlust for the hunters that had doomed his father. The brute wouldn't hesitate to rend him limb from limb with a splitting smile at even the smallest excuse, and the amulet was more than enough of a reason. If he came clean… well, there was a reason he wasn't thinking too hard on that possibility.</p><p>Of course there was only so long he could play ignorant before Bular or someone else caught on. Nomura had been especially troublesome as of late, she would throw herself into any impossible task if it meant even gaining an ounce of power that Strickler didn't have. A spark of impossible pride shot up, they really could be so alike sometimes.</p><p>Still, he was trapped, stuck in a sinking ship with no way off, doomed to be sucked under the toiling dark waves and drowned for the very impudence of existing at the wrong place and time. If he told Bular he had the amulet, he would die like the others in possession before him; if he didn't tell Bular he had the amulet, Bular would eventually find out and then he would gladly tear him apart in the name of his father. His original plan of facilitating Gunmar's return was quickly failing, if he continued with it, he was sure to seal his own fate.</p><p>But if he betrayed the Gumm-Gumm, left him locked in the aching, ruinous cold of the Darklands, the Janus Order and Bular wouldn't hesitate to hunt him to the ends of the earth for betraying what they'd worked towards for centuries. Those options weren't entirely appealing.</p><p>And that was <i>if</i> someone from Trollmarket didn't come seeking the new Trollhunter. They wouldn't expect a "human" at the very least, so that on its own would be an interesting challenge to overcome. But as horrid as Gunmar and his forces were, they at least kept changelings whole and alive, for the most part. Trollmarket didn't have the same track record.</p><p>There were too many variables, impossibilities that wrenched themselves into existence and toppled his warily constructed plans with almost no effort. He checked his watch. There was another hour before he had to be at the school, just enough time to piece together the firm persona that he donned daily.</p><p>Ignoring the surge of noise and light inside his coat, he twisted the keys into the ignition, the car rumbling to a start under his steady hands.</p><p>Pulling out of the parking lot with a mindless redundancy, thoughts wild with frantic starts and stops to new plans, Strickler was only certain of one thing. The amulet had made the biggest mistake of its existence.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This man is going to be so stressed and I will have fun with it.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Close Encounters of the Troll Kind</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Strickler makes several valiant attempts at normalcy, none of which seem to stick.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Woo, I'm really loving this, it's so fun to write! I can't believe I didn't drop this last time, but my Tumblr is @Innogens-breadsticks, feel free to ask me anything.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The lesson was easy, the steps plotted and memorized with years of repetition and a curriculum that required little adjustment. The day should've slipped on like another skin, as it so often did, but everything was just <i>off</i>. He was slipping, the odd looks the students continued to give him were sign enough. The inside pocket of his coat burned. Quickly, he fell back on a timeless method, directing attention to a hapless student.</p><p>"Jim, would you agree?"</p><p>Jim whipped his head up with a stark look of fear and confusion, eyes almost the shape of saucers.</p><p>"Sir?"</p><p>Stares peeled away from the visible buzzing of his nerves and onto the inevitable stumble of their classmate. Whomever thought that it was a grand idea to house teenagers together for school certainly hadn't thought it through. They could be barbaric at times, animalistic with their social prey.</p><p>"With Herodotus' opinion on his tactics of war, as I've described."</p><p>"Oh." Jim blinked before glancing desperately at Tobias, who whistled as a response, "Uh, absolutely."</p><p>"Excellent. Which tactics specifically?"</p><p>It was a particular brand of villainy even he could admit was unneeded, that didn't make it any less common, however.</p><p>"The, uh…" Jim trailed off awkwardly, "winning ones?"</p><p>Before the rest of the class could pass a unanimous response besides rising laughter, the bell sounded. A relief, a sign that he could eventually go home and no longer try and keep up a facade that fell apart with each passing hour. But with it came a countdown to an inevitable decision he had to make.</p><p>"All right, all right. Don't forget, Michaelson, chapters four and five."


</p><p>He turned his attention to Jim with something almost like guilt tugging on him. The boy had looked distracted, certainly, and he needed to keep up the guise of an invested teacher.</p><p>"Jim, may I have a word?"</p><p>With a small sound of surprise, Jim accidentally bumped into his desk, scattering his things all over the floor. Almost immediately he dropped to scoop them back up. Strickler, body weary and aching from exertion and exhaustion, internally sighed as he lowered himself to do the same.</p><p>"Jim, you're distracted." He ignored the knowing <i>look</i> the boy gave him in response, a silent call out. Strickler sighed, gesturing at the board, "You fell asleep between the invasion of Attica and the Peace of Nicias, and your attention wandered for the rest of class."</p><p>"Right…" Jim looked away, "Sorry, I didn't get a lot of sleep last night."</p><p>Strickler hesitated. Was it his place to continue? Would it only draw the ire of one of the few students he more than tolerated? He handed Jim a book and let that action give him time to prepare.</p><p>The look paired with his words was as close to kind as he could manage. "I know that it's just you and your mother and you want to help her—"</p><p>"She's just tired, Mr. Strickler. She's been working double-shifts at the clinic."</p><p>Without a second's consideration, he'd already grabbed a sticky note and began writing his number down. Tearing the little paper off its pad, he handed it to Jim, who took it without protest.</p><p>"I believe I'm overdue for a conversation with her. Have her call me, feel free to drop by my office if you ever need to talk."</p><p>The offer, despite himself, was genuine. Even if he played the role of teacher, ultimately to only doom his students at the end, there was no particular reason he couldn't try and be a good one. Some of the kids were even almost likeable at times.</p><p>"Yeah, I'll do that." Jim replied with a forced nonchalance.</p><p>Oh he was absolutely not going to tell his mother. Strickler was well aware of the falsehood, forced body language by those unpracticed in lies was almost drearily common. But Jim sorely underestimated the power of a passively worded e-mail, and if necessary, a house call. He brushed the spine of another wayward book.</p><p>"Oh, and Jim, if you fancy Miss Nuñez, I submit that talking <i>to</i> will be much more effective than staring <i>at</i>."</p><p>After a ginger tap on the head with a stray novel, Jim awkwardly chuckled. He pushed himself up to leave before stopping. He stared in consideration for a moment, opening his mouth and snapping it shut just as quickly. It went on for several seconds before Strickler decided to end it.</p><p>"Yes, Jim?"</p><p>"Um, I just don't know what… exactly… to talk to her about?" He scratched the back of his head, shuffling in place.</p><p>Strickler was somewhat amused, if not caught a little off guard.</p><p>Painting on an easy grin, he replied, "Well, surely you two must have a common interest, and if not, perhaps you could search for one. I don't know if you've heard, but Miss Nuñez is particularly well versed with the intricacies of the Bard."</p><p>Jim blinked, "Aha… right… the <i>Bard</i>. Yeah, uh, impressive, right?"</p><p>"I'd certainly hope Shakespeare would be considered as such." Strickler quietly chuckled.</p><p>"Oh! Oh <i>yeah</i>, greatest playwright ever, huh?" Jim tried to assert, stepping back, "Well, uh, thanks!"</p><p>The bell burst out with an aggressively  pounding chime. The next class had already started. Jim groaned, rushing for the door.</p><p>"Wait just a moment, Mr. Lake." Strickler sighed, starting for his desk to grab a pen and a paper pad, "I'll write you a late pass."</p>
<hr/><p>Someone was watching him. School had ended hours ago, but noises in the halls and vents weren't an entirely uncommon occurrence. There were after school clubs, teachers who had to grade and plan, and janitors that were relentlessly busy with the effort of keeping the massive building somewhat presentable. Suffice to say, his paranoia had been trained to recognize the familiarity of sudden noises and the muted squeaks of sneakers and let it all fade into the background; after all, if he got worked up and flashed his eyes accidentally, or worse, it would certainly pose a greater threat than Ms. Janeth singing offkey.</p><p>But that was not the case. It wasn't even the scraping noises from the sewers underneath his feet, though that was a large indicator, it was simply the atmosphere. Something was studying him, carefully trailing each and every movement, sitting hidden and idly by. Perhaps a human would chalk it up to pure fear and misinterpretation, however Changelings tended to be a bit more… thorough.</p><p>Realistically, there were only a few possibilities. Either Bular had sent someone to make sure of his loyalty and progress, or Trollmarket had found him quicker than he'd thought. It couldn't have been the Janus Order, they were at least somewhat more intelligent with their stalking. And though the belligerent prince was incredibly short with him as of late, he was more likely to grind his bones to dust than spy.</p><p>Trollmarket then. Perhaps someone had been watching in the canals, a fact he would've been too distracted to notice.</p><p>With a start, he pulled his pen off of the assignment he was correcting. The nib, pressed against the page for so long, had leaked and left a pooling collection of ink. Another oversight.</p><p>Shoving the papers in his desk with more aggression than was really needed, resolutely setting them off for tomorrow, he pushed his chair back. With keys in hand, he left his office, locking the door behind him. The hallway was empty, silent. Most other teachers had gone home or congregated in the breakroom to bemoan their careers. Most importantly, the sewers, where the trolls had to be following him from, had no direct line here, no way to listen in.</p><p>They couldn't have known the truth about him, if they had, well… he was certain that they wouldn't hesitate to create a sudden new job opening. But he needed to keep them ignorant and himself intact. Sighing, he pulled out his phone and swiped until he found a familiar icon. He pressed it and let the ringtone echo dimly in the darkened school.</p><p>"<i>What</i>?"</p><p>"Hello to you too, Nomura." He bit out, as terse as he could manage, "Glad to see you've not yet mastered the art of manners."</p><p>"Please, it's not like you're the epitome of polite society either." She snarked over a poor connection, "Just tell me what you want."</p><p>"Fine then." He cut to the chase, "I'm being followed. Trollmarket, I think. They might suspect something."</p><p>"Have you been made?" She sternly replied, all humor sapped from her voice, "Do they know anything?"</p><p>"No, it seems to be nothing more than them covering their bases. I doubt they truly believe it, if they did…"</p><p>"It'd be gaggletacks and dismemberment." She finished.</p><p>"To start with." He grimaced.</p><p>"Alright, so you need to act all innocent for a day or two, and I'm assuming that means you want <i>me</i> to deal with Bular."</p><p>"If you would be so kind. I was going to meet him at the canal tonight to start the search for the amulet."</p><p>"Ugh, it's a good thing I slept in yesterday. You <i>owe</i> me, Stricklander."</p><p>"I'm bringing my fifteenth class in a row to your museum. If anything, <i>you're</i> the one in debt."</p><p>"Oh, not <i>this</i> again."</p><p>"Nomura!" He chastised, "Can you handle it or not?"</p><p>"What kind of question is that? Of course I can. Worry about yourself."</p><p>"Sure. And try not to take that attitude with Bular? It might be tempting, but I'd prefer more of us alive than not. The only reason I can get away with it is because I've proven myself useful dozens of times over. By all means, he has to tolerate it."</p><p>He could almost hear her eye roll.</p><p>"I'll make sure to keep it in mind. Good luck with your stalker. Remember, if there are no bodies—"</p><p>"—there's no crime to be arrested for." He tiredly added.</p><p>She cackled. "If that's all, I'd like to get back to my well-paying and academically respected job."</p><p>He frowned deeply as a dial tone cut through the air. No time to even respond. Typical.</p><p>Huffing, he started down the hall, snippets of future banter circling, waiting to be selected and stored for later. It wasn't until the faint sound of moving stone scraping against cement walls came rumbling through several feet of concrete and pipe, that he recalled what exactly his goal was. Right now, he had a role to play, as always.</p>
<hr/><p>It took less time than expected for his oblivious stalkers to show themselves.</p><p>He'd driven home without much excitement, though he couldn't stop the unavoidable hypervigilance that grated on his senses with even the slightest change in environment. It was difficult to keep his eyes from flicking to each and every mirror in a constant rotation. Still, it was only when he'd parked his car in the relatively empty lot behind his apartment building that anything notably relevant happened.</p><p>The sidewalk to the lobby was lined with shrubbery, short and flat little bushes that gave way to a grassy uniformity that surrounded the bland, unnoticeable building. Of course there was a densely wooded forest encroaching on the area, juxtaposing with the overly landscaped, over developed neighborhood that was one or two all-American families away from being plastered on a gaudy billboard. Nature was still heavily relegated to the back of the parking lot, however.</p><p>It was from there, hidden by darkened trees with branches knotted together, that he could finally put a voice to those heavy, unpracticed steps that had dogged his every move.</p><p>"Master Waltolomew!"</p><p>The words slammed into the back of his head, reverberating at an intensity so alarming that it was a miracle he didn't fall over when he turned around.</p><p>For a moment, it seemed as if a nightmare had come to life as the figure came forward from the woods. Four-arms, a blocky, over proportioned head and an eager, excitable voice. The spitting image of Dictatious. Had he escaped the Darklands with Gunmar in tow? Ready to mock, or worse, drag him away for a private meeting with his leader?</p><p>But the blue tinge of stone, vibrant versus the usual sight of washed out, sickly green; the hair, slicked back and nonexistent on the top; and finally, the open, genuine greeting splayed on their face. It couldn't have been him.</p><p>A bigger, lumbering figure pulled themself up next to the Dictatious lookalike. If Strickler's heart had been pounding at the mere suggestion of Gunmar's advisor having found him, now, it had stuttered to an utter stop.</p><p>It had been <i>centuries</i>, and Strickler had been a mere whelp at the time, but that was <i>AAARRRGGHH</i>. Gunmar's general, his right hand man, the one who'd slaughtered by his side since before Strickler had been born.</p><p>Stumbling back, he threw up a hand, choking on air as the beast came closer. He <i>knew</i>, of course AAARRRGGHH did, how could he not? He could probably smell it, even if he wasn't in the same form as he had been during their briefly shared time under Gunmar's command, it must have been obvious.</p><p>"Master Waltolomew, we've found you!"</p><p>Strickler tripped and fell back, strangled noises ripped from his throat, as he scrambled back, the sidewalk tearing at skin and cloth alike.</p><p>"I am known as Blinky, and my gargantuan companion here is AAARRRGGHH." The Dict—<i>Blinky</i> gestured to the hulking troll.</p><p>AAARRRGGHH, with a <i>smile</i> of all things, stuck up three fingers, "Three R's."</p><p>"...huh?" Escaped in panted breaths.</p><p>"Oh, Master Waltolomew, do not be frightened! We merely wish to discuss matters of a certain… import." Blinky twiddled his thumbs, all four of them.</p><p>"<i>What</i>?" He hissed from his spot on the ground.</p><p>"Well, Master Waltolomew-"</p><p>"Walter." Strickler swallowed, surprised at the sound of his own voice, "My name is Walter."</p><p>"Delightful. Well then, Master <i>Walter</i>, you have been chosen for a most impressive office!" Blinky explained, forced exuberance coating his words.</p><p>"Orifice?" AAARRRGGHH tilted his massive head, curiously look at Blinky.</p><p>"<i>Office</i>, a responsibility of sorts." Blinky deftly summarized before turning back to Strickler, "Back to the point; Master Walter, the Amulet of Daylight has selected <i>you</i> as it's champion."</p><p>Strickler blinked. They truly had no idea. They had not come to disembowel him with sadistic assurance and parade his body around as a symbol of victory, rather, they had come seeking their supposed hero. A festering disappointment for all involved.</p><p>His stunted silence easily came across as shock, a fact he had never been more grateful for.</p><p>"But rest assured, we will prepare you for this great mantle, your destiny will not come as a battle; rather, you shall face it with pride as the great defender of good in the battle versus evil!" Blinky pointed upwards as his voice rose in decibels and vivacity, "Master Walter, the title of Trollhunter has been a great honor to all those who have wielded it, and with the time to train, you will be more than ready to uphold their impressive legacy."</p><p>His sputtered breaths of disbelief weren't entirely for show. The true weight of what he'd been charged with, the splitting efforts he'd have to keep up with to be successful, almost shattered him right then and there. Dredging up the last bits of his energy, he fell back on the one constant skill he could count on; lying.</p><p>"I'm—I'm sorry? A <i>Trollhunter</i>?" He anxiously flicked his eyes between them, "I—I can't… this can't be real!"</p><p>"Oh, nonsense! This is as tangible on our plane of existence as you could possibly experience!" Blinky ignored his increasing panic with an almost unbelievable amount of ease, "However, Master Walter, you—and the rest of humanity—have been kept forcibly ignorant from a key part of this reality. A widespread civilisation exists just beneath your very feet, a secret and incredibly vast society of Trolls lurking in the last solitary and untouched areas of the earth."</p><p>"<i>Trolls</i>!?" His voice squeaked.</p><p>"Yes, Trolls. And now <i>you</i> have been charged with their protection, as their Trollhunter." Blinky smiled broadly as he gestured to Strickler.</p><p>Open mouthed in half-genuine shock, Strickler put his head in his hands, mumbling, "I—oh this can't be <i>real</i>, I must be hallucinating, or—or having a mental break, there's no—"</p><p>"I can guarantee your mind is certainly intact, at least as far as I'm aware. And I highly doubt you would've imagined such an unlikely scenario, what with the kind of life you lead." Blinky exhaled with a delighted grin, one pair of hands on what could be called his hips, shooting a secretive look to the former Gumm-Gumm general, "A fellow educator! A molder of young and promising minds, how resplendent. I don't recall the amulet ever having selected someone with such an admirable pursuit."</p><p>AAARRRGGHH nodded thoughtfully, "Don't remember. But good."</p><p>Blinky, satisfied and bolstered by the lackluster answer, turned his sights back on to Strickler.</p><p>"Please, do not be alarmed. But you must understand, this is a situation that had never before arisen. A… a <i>human</i> answering Daylight's call to action, why it was thought unlikely, nay, impossible!"</p><p>A hysterical bubble of laughter tore itself from his mouth, "This is—this is <i>insane</i>! I teach history! At a public high school! And now you expect me to believe in Trolls and magical destinies? No! <i>No</i>!"</p><p>With a start, he pushed himself off the ground, violently stumbling backwards until he knocked into the door keeping him separated from the relative safety of the inside. They'd never risk exposing themselves in such a public place, all he had to do was open the door. His card was already in his hand; subtly, he pressed it against the sensor. The light changed color and the door clicked, things obscured by the intensity of the situation.</p><p>Blinky reached for him, "Wait, Master Walter, <i>please</i>—"</p><p>"I'm—I'm truly sorry, but I'm the wrong person for this, good luck and good <i>night</i>."</p><p>With that final declaration, he twisted open the knob and fell backwards into the foyer. Scrambling to gain purchase on the embellished tile floor, he quickly stumbled to unsteady feet and shut the door behind him. He didn't see anyone else in the lobby, nor was he searching hard enough to notice. Without looking behind him, he darted to the stairwell, taking two to three steps at a time. He continued mindlessly until the sharpness of his thoughts returned, and by then he was already several floors up.</p><p>With tentative safety in his grasp, he let himself collapse against the wall. Heaving pants filled the empty, clinical air as harsh light buzzed overhead. Steadying himself on the wall cloaked in beige, Strickler let the exaggerated panic fall away, schooling his reactions back into a manageable range.</p><p>He needed to get the facts in order, needed to make a decision. One, Bular had no clue as to who the amulet had chosen; two, Trollmarket <i>was</i> aware of who had been selected but was not aware of his true nature; three, if either one found out what he was keeping secret then he would more than likely end up dead.</p><p>The amulet, which had been completely silent and unremarkable for hours beforehand, began its pulsating once again.</p><p>He couldn't allow it to do that in the open, it would draw unneeded attention. Both sides had eyes everywhere. He looked up the door he was next to. Luckily, though he almost snorted at the thought, it was the entrance to his floor.</p><p>Pushing it open and heading straight for his apartment, Strickler kept his head down. He had already produced the necessary key, and with a swift twist, he entered. He locked the door behind him, pausing before deciding to grab a nearby chair and shoving it under the knob. Entirely paranoid and unnecessary but at least he'd hear if anyone broke in.</p><p>His hand went into his inner jacket pocket, but froze as he grazed the humming metal. Sweeping the minimalist space, entirely impersonal and open, bathing in earth tones, his eyes were drawn to the multitudes of windows that offered possible sight into his private domain.</p><p>Feeling impossible eyes upon him, he rushed into the bathroom, only a few feet away, slamming the heavy door behind him. He flicked the lock closed with due haste.</p><p>Composure in shambles, he caught his own reflection in the lengthy mirror fixed on the wall above the sink.</p><p>His hair had come apart despite his gelled efforts, falling in bits over his forehead. The sides of his slacks, pressed earlier that week to utter smoothness, were rough with dirt and grit. Carefully, he brought up his hands for inspection. The skin on his palms was rubbed away, red and raw.</p><p>All in all, it was not the worst state he'd ever been in, not by far. But it chipped away at him nonetheless. This was <i>Arcadia Oaks</i>, the sleepy town where the only secretive plots to be carried out were of his own devising. <i>This</i> was not how it was supposed to be.</p><p>The blue glow dulled by tanned fabric caught his eye in the mirror. Had <i>that</i> happened during class? Hopefully not, but it would've explained some of the odder looks he'd been on the receiving end of.</p><p>Closing his eyes and steadily exhaling, he clenched one hand and stuck the other inside his jacket, firmly clasping the whirring weapon with all the dignity he had to offer. Carefully opening his eyelids, everything came to a stop as the amulet, clear in front of him since the first time that morning, hummed in his grasp.</p><p>It's face moved, spinning almost like a clock as the stone inside lit up intermittently. A curious thing of ingenuity and magic, Merlin was a talented creator if nothing else, though the thought tasted bitterly of silent betrayal.</p><p>Finally the inscription caught his attention, the part he'd been avoiding. For what little he—and the rest of Gunmar's forces for that matter—knew of the amulet, the damned phrase had been shouted enough times to have seared itself forever in their collective minds.</p><p>The Trollish was simple enough, if not a bit odd and old-fashioned. After being split for centuries, Trollish in the Darklands—both written and spoken—had separated with strange nuances from the traditional language. Then, of course, Changelings had altered it in a variety of ways, shorthand and code being driving forces.</p><p>When the inscribed words began flickering he flinched so hard that it almost slipped from his hand. For a brief moment the most common of Changeling dialects peaked through before the amulet, ever averse to the Pale Lady's creations despite its one exception, settled on English. It made sense of course, it was the language he dealt with most often in daily life. Still, the satisfaction of seeing his kind's work on something they'd come to view as a symbol of fear was something he'd have liked to experience.</p><p>He looked at the mirror, watching his own hesitant eyes. He needed to know. Really, truly know. The bottom of his stomach dropped, but he, ever the master of ignoring his own wants to do what must be done, focused on the object that had been the subject of his ire for years.</p><p>"For the glory of Mer—" The name caught in his throat, fearful of his Lady Creator somehow being able to hear his verbal treachery. He swallowed, forcing himself onward, "<i>Merlin</i>, daylight… is mine to command."</p><p>For a single, wonderful moment, nothing happened. Then the amulet, an eager agent in the destruction of his life, sputtered and rose in the air as it sang of magic and light, piercing the empty dark of the unlit room.</p><p>Blue tendrils of an ancient, mysterious thing enveloped him, dragging him above the floor and wrapping him in a tingling sensation. He kicked uselessly, struggling to pull away as it kept him floating in place. Utter horror stole his energy as pieces of familiar armor developed around him, clustering ancient power built them into existence, revolving chaotically before slamming themselves together against his body.</p><p>He was unceremoniously dropped to the ground as the armor, still built for a much larger troll, shrunk to a more comfortable size. Hand pressed to his forehead, he tried to shake away the daze that had settled over him. The image in the mirror made him stop entirely.</p><p>The armor fit perfectly, not one bit too large or small, an almost impossible feat had it not been for the wonders of magic. It was lighter than it looked, something he noted as he tested it by bouncing on the balls of his feet as hysteria began brewing in his chest.</p><p>This was wrong, so completely and utterly. He was Gunmar's servant, created solely to help him in his plans to rule the surface. The Pale Lady had changed him, by all means, he was <i>hers</i>. The amulet could not claim him, yet it had, yet it continued to do so.</p><p>The amulet chimed from its place on his chest, this time it reverberated through him, little waves of sensation that pooled in his hand until bits of blue began stretching out past his fingers. <i>Daylight</i>.</p><p>The sword popped into reality. Had he not directed his arm to the length of the unused room, it would've caused immense amounts of destruction. The hilt came resting into his palm, along with the weight of it. It dropped to the ground and almost pulled him with it.</p><p>Hissing as he tried to pull it up, it, like the armor, began to change, shrinking down to a more comfortable size. He lifted it, carefully, the weight easing as he brought it higher. Even once it had stopped, it was incredibly lengthy, a little less than half his height.</p><p>Testing its weight, flipping it from side to side, it was proportioned perfectly. Impressive. The brief flicker of excitement died soon after as he caught his own appreciative expression in the mirror.</p><p>It didn't matter how wonderfully tailored the weapon was, it would not be able to stand against Bular. That was a fact that had been proven again and again, a fact Strickler himself had seen many examples of. Even Kanjigar, who Strickler could begrudgingly admit was an impressive opponent and strategist, ultimately was felled by the brute. And that was <i>if</i> no darker opponent came seeking him first.</p><p>The Pale Lady's champion had not been seen in centuries, and only a desperate fool would risk raising him, but those requirements weren't exactly difficult to meet.</p><p>The amulet's glow subsided, and with it, the armor's stability. Fading quickly, the silver suit dissipated with a resounding burst of light. The metal periapt defied gravity for a mere second before it slipped down his chest into his open palm.</p><p>The ringing in his ears continued until he realized it was not an after effect of the amulet, but his phone violently trying to catch his attention. Scrambling with his other hand, he dug it out of his pocket and hit 'accept'.</p><p>"Yes?"</p><p>"<i>Stricklander</i>." Nomura grumbled, obviously displeased.</p><p>"Ah. You." He almost sighed.</p><p>"Yes, <i>me</i>, or did you forget who exactly you threw to the wolves?"</p><p>"Come now, isn't that a bit of an exaggeration?"</p><p>"He threatened to eat me!" She hissed.</p><p>"Well, yes, he tends to do that. Have you ever listened to me?"</p><p>"I think you know the answer to that."</p><p>"Nomura," He admonished with familiar exhaustion, "we, at least, need to remain civil if our reckless prince staunchly refuses such base actions."</p><p>"Fine." She agreed with undue apprehension, "Now, do you want to know what happened or are you going to run your mouth for the next three hours?"</p><p>"Why would I do that when I could give you the opportunity instead?"</p><p>"Funny. But to actually get to the point, the goblins found a few scents and tracked them as far as they would go. One never left the sewers, and the other two, excluding yours of course, went to Arcadia Oaks High. Have something to say about that?"</p><p><i>No</i>. They must've found Jim and Tobias' trail. Defending them would implicate himself, he'd be accused of incompetence, or worse, the <i>truth</i>. He needed a plan, but before that, he needed <i>time</i>.</p><p>He could do this, he could keep everything from falling apart. They were so very close, after centuries of work, it couldn't be halted by this.</p><p>Guilt, something he'd thought beaten and forced out of him, swarmed in his vision as he gripped the phone tighter. Staring into his own reflected eyes as the blue from the amulet began to grow, he spoke.</p><p>"Two of my students were there first, I caught them in the canal when I arrived. I didn't think anything of it."</p><p>"Weren't <i>you</i> the one who proposed a human took the amulet?"</p><p>"Of course, I still think it a very likely possibility." He tried to shrug off the subtle accusation, "But these are <i>children</i>, Nomura, one can't even talk to a girl he fancies without turning into a stuttering mess!"</p><p>"Sounds like you've grown attached, Stricklander. <i>Weak</i>."</p><p>His eyes flashed, "Watch your tone, Nomura. Don't forget your <i>place</i>."</p><p>She was silent. It was almost calculable, really, the exact moment her face would fall blank before hardening once again, any trace of humor or teasing gone, buried under spiteful distance. He'd seen it enough times to know, more accurately, he'd usually been the <i>cause</i> of it. It was always easier than the last time, to see that flicker of familiarity and hope get stamped out for a frigid regard. This time, it barely registered.</p><p>"Of course. How could I ever forget with your constant reminders, <i>sir</i>."</p><p>How she made a term of acknowledgement sound like something so utterly filthy was something he'd never know.</p><p>"Wonderful. I'll keep a close eye on the two, but I can guarantee you that neither of them could possibly be the Trollhunter."</p><p>"Oh, Stricklander…" Nomura trilled with savage glee, "it's not <i>me</i> you have to convince. Bular will be especially interested in this turn of events.</p><p>Through gritted teeth, he spit, "How very <i>kind</i> of you to keep him updated."</p><p>"More so than you could ever claim to be."</p><p>With a beep, the screen flashed brightly on his face, almost blinding him in the dark bathroom. The call had ended.</p><p>The phone was slammed face down on the counter. Something cracked, <i>loudly</i>. The amulet shrieked with light and potential, buzzing against his flesh.</p><p>He needed to manage this, to be in <i>control</i>. But the pieces to the chessboard were slipping away, stolen from his grasp and discarded far from where he could reach.</p><p>Bular couldn't be allowed to kill human children, a needless act of violence which would bring unprecedented levels of scrutiny down upon them. Strickler needed to be careful, more so than normal.</p><p>Still, staring from a face that had been stolen long ago, something in him ebbed away. He stayed like that for a time, blankly raking over a visage that had barely changed in centuries.</p><p>Sighing, he dropped his other hand to the counter. Tomorrow was a new day with new challenges to prepare for. With that thought on his mind, Strickler steeled himself. He just needed to keep everything from falling apart. Yes, certainly he could do that. It would just take some effort.</p><p>Without another look at the accursed object haunting the remnants of his normalcy, he shoved it inside his jacket. Tonight was all he'd need, he'd certainly come up with more workable plans on less time. With one last glance in the mirror, the throbbing blue glow still a visible stain on his person, he gruffly turned away.</p><p>He could do this. He had to.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Ahahaha, can you tell I Iove Strickler and Nomura? They have such an interesting relationship, almost friends but not quite. Things are gonna parallel canon for a bit before some real divergence happens. But I'll try to give things a new twist, like with Strickler and Jim's conversation. I'd imagine you'd feel less awkward asking a father figure for advice after you've caught them being shady in a canal. But eh, that's me. Also, I feel like Blinky would really vibe with Strickler (before the whole changeling thing) as a fellow teacher and all.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Something of a Lampoon</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Despite trying to keep everything in balance, two worlds keep colliding.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Woo. I kinda struggled with the last half but eh. It's workable. Also here's my <a href="https://innogens-breadsticks.tumblr.com/post/638599881076965376/a-devil-resides-behind-your-smile-chapter-3">Tumblr</a>, so feel free to visit!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tap. Tap. Tap.</p><p> </p><p>The rhythm was invariable; a constant, reassuring note of his continued being. It wasn't a habit he engaged in during class, no, but in the moderate solitude of his office it was more than acceptable. </p><p> </p><p>The knob on the door turned and his pen froze. Twirling it with practiced ease, he slid it between his fingers, poising it over a paper as if caught in the middle of some important task. Looking up, it was a familiar, anxious face.</p><p> </p><p>The stiffness in his shoulders faded as he sat up, trying his best to look welcoming.</p><p> </p><p>"Ah, hello Jim." He half-heartedly smiled, "What can I do for you?"</p><p> </p><p>"Um, do you have a minute?"</p><p> </p><p>Strickler considered turning him away, briefly, before finally caving. With a sigh, he offered, "Are you alright? You look peaked. Here, sit."</p><p> </p><p>The boy, jumpy if not a tad disheveled, closed the door behind him, tightly gripping the strap to his bag as he quickly crossed the room and began adjusting the seat. Chattering at a mile a minute as he continuously spun the chair, Strickler watched in mild bemusement.</p><p> </p><p>"Okay, so I've been thinking about what you said, right? About Claire and my mom and everything, and, like, also about life after high school, super crazy to consider that by the way, and like it's all coming together and I just have no real idea about what to do, you know? Which is fine, I just need time to figure it out, but right now I have a lot happening but it also feels like nothing and so, I guess the point is that you can't talk to my mom—"</p><p> </p><p>"Jim." Strickler stopped him with a slightly pained expression, "<i>Breathe</i>."</p><p> </p><p>Jim, pink in the face despite the darker patches under his eyes, gulped and nodded, swiftly sitting down.</p><p> </p><p>"Now, let's start with the actual reason you came here. You don't want me to call your mother." He'd started fiddling with his pen between words, examining the child with untoward scrutiny. "Understandable, given the circumstances. No child wishes to have a parent brought into a situation where their presence is unneeded."</p><p> </p><p>Jim grinned. "So you won't call her!"</p><p> </p><p>"Incorrect, Mr. Lake." His eyes flickered from the top of his desk to the dismayed teen's face, "You're assuming adult intervention is unnecessary, yet you've stormed into my office with a frantic gusto I've only seen matched by other students on the rarest of occasions, and usually there's a promise of free food involved. How much sleep did you get last night?"</p><p> </p><p>He bristled. "Enough."</p><p> </p><p>"Excuse my disbelief." He sighed, pausing to gather himself. "Jim, you've shouldered more than most other kids your age, responsibilities that simply aren't yours to carry. And it's starting to show."</p><p> </p><p>Jim crossed his arms, expression souring.</p><p> </p><p>"You put so much on yourself and have no consideration for how it'll impact you in the long run. Altruism can be admirable at times, but it shouldn't be indulged in to the point that it causes <i>you</i> harm."</p><p> </p><p>Jim snorted, "Aren't teachers supposed to be encouraging responsibility and all that jazz?"</p><p> </p><p>"I don't think you came to me so I could give you some half-hearted, morally simplistic advice." Strickler raised an eyebrow, "Though, to be concise, it's like a great poet once wrote: "Do what's good for you, or you're not good for anybody"."</p><p> </p><p>He blinked, "That sounds really familiar."</p><p> </p><p>Strickler shrugged, "It most likely is. The point being that if you truly want to continue helping the people you care about, try taking some time for yourself. Until then, I expect to hear from your mother."</p><p> </p><p>Jim deflated, all the defensiveness that puffed him up had sapped. He numbly glanced out the window, to where a somewhat noisy soccer game had been held for a good part of the morning. Strickler watched, unsurprised, as Steve Palchuk demolished an unsuspecting soccer ball with an almost inhuman display of might. The boy turned, focused only on Jim, and ticked his finger.</p><p> </p><p>Unpleasant. Though with the rumors about his father, it wasn't entirely unexpected. It was a common sight, some deeply repressed fear, guilt for being a supposed failure, manifesting into an almost perfect cruelty. The boy would've been a half-decent changeling, if not for the small fact of his inability to be subtle, or his unfortunate humanity.</p><p> </p><p>So Jim was struggling with something more than just schoolwork or his mother's increasingly hectic schedule. It was likely he was seeking some peaceful solution, a way to get out unscathed. That kind of behavior would've gotten him killed in the Darklands. It wouldn't matter soon, with Gunmar's imminent return.</p><p> </p><p>The school, his entire life in Arcadia, would hold little meaning in the coming months. The students he passed equal amounts judgement and advice onto were going to be toothpicks in the mouth of some Gumm-Gumm. If they were lucky. He wouldn't wish the Eternal Night on any warm-blooded creature, the slow and inevitably draining cold creeping in would be enough to drive any remaining members of humanity mad.</p><p> </p><p>"Mr. Strickler?"</p><p> </p><p>Jim's voice broke through his muted haze. With a start, he straightened his spine.</p><p> </p><p>"Sorry Jim, just a bit tired today." He smoothly excused.</p><p> </p><p>The boy warily eyed him, "What was it you were just saying about watching out for yourself?"</p><p> </p><p>"Ah, Mr. Lake, I'm a teacher <i>and</i> an adult, sleepless nights are more common than not. The difference is that I stopped growing <i>long</i> ago." Smiling mirthfully, Strickler tilted his head.</p><p> </p><p>Jim huffed, rolling his eyes, but stood up all the same, "Sure. But um, thanks for the advice. I like talking to you."</p><p> </p><p>Strickler, perfectly agreeable in the role of teacher, nodded, "Always."</p><p> </p><p>Jim quickly departed, still stopping briefly to wave before closing the door as the bell rang. Strickler stared after for longer than he would've liked to admit. </p><p> </p><p>Children were always so trusting, having not yet learned that some people in authority positions did not, in fact, have their best interests in mind. Strickler supposed that included himself. Little James Lake was to be dead within the year, at least if everything stayed on schedule, so why did he feel the compulsion to help the lad?</p><p> </p><p>Well, Strickler leaned back in his chair, he always was attached to his position as a teacher. It was, oddly enough, the only time he felt… natural, in a way. Sure there were the instances he could fly and throw knives to his heart's content but it was fleeting, marred by the danger such a situation usually called for. But at the front of a classroom, passionately listing the impacts of political infighting in 18th century European governments, was where he felt in control.</p><p> </p><p>It was better, decades ago when he was able to teach at recognized Universities to eager hordes of students who hung on to his every word, like he'd made an impact, like he'd truly <i>changed</i> something. It was a simple satisfaction unchallenged by any other aspect of his life. Now, it was much the same, though his audience was less enraptured, less invested. But the few who had that same gleam of interest as his former students, perhaps one could call them his favorites. Jim included.</p><p> </p><p>Even if he did find their eagerness amusing, almost impressive at times, it was for the best if he distanced himself. If not now, sometime soon. For Heaven's sake, he didn't want to get truly <i>invested</i> in them. Better there to be no real emotion when the time came, perhaps the odd sense of loss but no real grief, no <i>regret</i>.</p><p> </p><p>His pen had already begun tapping the desk, in beat with his constant thoughts. With one deep breath to compose himself, he rolled his shoulders back and set a neutral look on his face. He didn't have time to ponder any more than necessary. With that, he resolutely went back to the arduous task of grading. Though, for some reason, his attention was harder to keep than usual.</p>
<hr/><p>"No! You cannot just—"</p><p> </p><p>"I don't see why <i>not</i>, Stricklander." Bular grumbled through a garbled speaker.</p><p> </p><p>"Because they're <i>children</i>, a generally valued part of human society. People tend to get concerned and, more importantly, <i>involved</i> when they go missing!" He hissed into a cracked screen.</p><p> </p><p>Tapping his foot on the sidewalk, Strickler glanced around the empty area. The front of the school was deserted, the weakening sun casting orange on the brick walls. Shadowed by the cement overhang of the entrance, and the metal gate locked behind him, darkness was soon to come.</p><p> </p><p>"Who cares when one of them is the Trollhunter! <i>That</i> poses more of a problem than any fleshbag interference!"</p><p> </p><p>"You underestimate the tenacity of a communal paranoia." Strickler pinched the bridge of his nose.</p><p> </p><p>"The other impure was much less <i>obnoxious</i>." Bular huffed.</p><p> </p><p>"Yes, well, Nomura shares your recklessness when it comes to remaining hidden." He bit out, alarm flaring in his chest, "She, unlike most of my brethren, doesn't think ahead when it comes to her actions."</p><p> </p><p>"I think she shows initiative and <i>loyalty</i>. Look out, Stricklander, or your position might be ripped out from under you." Bular chuckled darkly, "And that would be a shame."</p><p> </p><p>"Don't threaten <i>me</i>. I've served your father faithfully for years! It's with him that we, his legion, will finally be free. Do <i>not</i> doubt my resolve when it comes to that."</p><p> </p><p>"How cute. You really think your word means anything to me." He paused and Strickler could feel the savage grin, "<i>Impure</i>."</p><p> </p><p>Stiffening, his fingers tightened around his already damaged phone.</p><p> </p><p>"It's not just my own words, it's <i>logic</i>." He growled.</p><p> </p><p>"Yes, and logic dictates that in order to free my father, the Trollhunter must be out of the picture." A deep chuckle resounded, "I'm going hunting tonight!"</p><p> </p><p>"Listen to me," Strickler all but begged, "this will jeopardize <i>everything</i> we've worked for! Your father—"</p><p> </p><p>"My father would tear you apart for your weakness! What are but a few troublesome fleshbags standing in the way of his return, weak and untrained." The brute seemed to be salivating at the thought, "I'm not asking your <i>permission</i>. The goblins have already found them, and by the time the sun has fully set, the amulet will be ours!"</p><p> </p><p>Strickler stilled, unnaturally so. For a brief moment, those hundreds of years of waiting, planning, tearing himself down over and over again, had all come to the surface.</p><p> </p><p>"Fine! But I'm telling you now, you absolute fucking <i>moron</i>, that neither of those children wield Daylight!" Something guttural slipped through; raw and unfettered.</p><p> </p><p>"Stricklander." A warning, a quiet one bathed in utter rage, "Remember. Your. <i>Place</i>."</p><p> </p><p>The very words he'd thrown at Nomura now used against him, if she was listening in then she'd at least appreciate the irony.</p><p> </p><p>"Very well then." Strickler snarled, open wrath pointing his features for the first time in years, "<i>Goodbye</i>."</p><p> </p><p>Refusing to let the lumbering beast have the satisfaction of ending it, he finished the call with an almost violent mashing of his finger. The thought of smashing his phone against the nearest hard surface brought him an immense amount of satisfaction, a suggestion that prodded at the forefront of his thoughts. He settled for roughly shoving it in his pocket.</p><p> </p><p>His timeline would have to accelerate. Rapidly.</p><p> </p><p>Looking around once more just to assure himself of the relative privacy he'd been afforded, Strickler marched rapidly on the cement walkway that fed into the gaping maw of the school, crossing to the street. He got to the curb, and after making doubly sure no occupied cars were coming down the street or sitting idly by, squatted next to the nearest storm drain and squinted into the immeasurable dark. They'd been too far away to hear, but their presence made him hyper aware and paranoid all the same.</p><p> </p><p>"I know you're in there. You aren't very subtle."</p><p> </p><p>A beat. Six bright yellow eyes blinked into view, almost petulant in their glare. The hulking shadow next to Blinky had to be the former general. The two seemed to be a constant pair.</p><p> </p><p>"Master Walter. How wonderful to see you finally acknowledging us."</p><p> </p><p>Blinky's dry tone was so like Dictatious'. They had to be related in some manner. Though that was a rabbit hole that would have to wait.</p><p> </p><p>"I've had some time to process." Strickler deadpanned, "I just needed to sleep on it."</p><p> </p><p>"Oh! Does this mean you're willing to come with us to begin your training?"</p><p> </p><p>He tried not to flinch at the sheer <i>hopefulness</i> of the statement. Trollmarket must've been hard pressed to find the new champion.</p><p> </p><p>"Don't mistake my reluctant acceptance of the situation for any sort of eagerness." He reprimanded with a disciplinary tone reserved for wayward students and, apparently, optimistic trolls. "I'm more concerned about the dangers this has dropped on my head!"</p><p> </p><p>"Oh, well, those are…" Blinky turned to the shadowed former Gumm-Gumm with desperate eyes. AAARRRGGHH shrugged and Blinky turned back with a pained smile, "...merely occupational hazards!"</p><p> </p><p>"In my world, I at least get paid to deal with screaming children." Strickler narrowed his eyes. "But I'm assuming these "occupational hazards" are something much worse."</p><p> </p><p>Blinky shuddered, letting his oversized head fall forward. "Master Walter… I was telling the truth about your role, to protect both Trolls and humans alike from the great evils that exist. But those evils… they are <i>vile</i>. Deadly."</p><p> </p><p>"Do they…" Strickler swallowed, feigning apprehension, "know who I am?"</p><p> </p><p>"I have, thankfully, a happy answer for that.” Blinky sighed, “It appears that they do not, but you must remain vigilant. There’s no telling when Bular or his forces could strike.”</p><p> </p><p>“Bular?” It was hard to keep his voice relatively neutral at his name, feeling very dizzy in the moment.</p><p> </p><p>“Nasty. Very bad.” AAARRRGGHH added.</p><p> </p><p>“Indeed, dear friend.” Blinky solemnly agreed, “Bular is incredibly dangerous, both in goals and person. He has felled Trollhunters before, and he wishes to see the world desolate and barren after, ahem, violently removing all life from its surface and caverns.”</p><p> </p><p>Strickler blinked. “So you mean to tell me that not only do I have some sacred mission to protect <i>Trolls</i>—which is still utterly ridiculous, no matter what—but at the same time, there’s a bloodthirsty monster ready to rend me limb from limb?” Letting his incredulity show was incredibly cathartic.</p><p> </p><p>“You can see why I am so desperate to get started on your training.” Blinky gestured to him.</p><p> </p><p>“Wait.” Strickler stopped him, raising a hand as his face grew more twisted with concern, “<i>How</i> exactly could Bular find me.”</p><p> </p><p>Blinky paused, tapping his chin thoughtfully, “There are many ways. Perhaps someone could see your amulet at the wrong time and talk about it to the wrong person, then there are always scrying spells, or, of course, he could try and scent you out.”</p><p> </p><p>He let revelation flicker in his eyes, “What do you mean by “try and scent you out”?”</p><p> </p><p>“He has many dark creatures on his side, goblins chief among them.” Something close to vindictive seeped through into his voice, “Troublesome things, really. But what they lack in organization and intelligence, they make up for in tracking and a petty need for vengeance. If he set them on your scent from the canals, which would be difficult but not impossible, then it is possible they could find you. But there have been no signs of them, so—”</p><p> </p><p>“You fool!” Strickler hissed, leaning closer, “I wasn’t the only one in the canals when I found the amulet!”</p><p> </p><p>“Whatever do you—” Blinky’s chary response was ready to fire back before the enormity of what he said hit him. His mouth fell open, “Oh. Oh Great Gronka Morka. The <i>children</i>!”</p><p> </p><p>“My <i>students</i>.” Strickler growled the correction with due irritation, “I have to find them.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oho! This is excellent! Already answering the call to action!” Blinky cheered, nudging the larger troll, “How I wish it was for something less, uhm, worrisome, but trust me, you are a natural!”</p><p> </p><p>Strickler regarded them with wary indignation, “I severely doubt that. But I do need to make sure they’re safe.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes! AAARRRGGHH and I will follow from the shadows, though I doubt we’ll be much help. I am much more of an academic and AAARRRGGHH is—”</p><p> </p><p>“Pacifist.” He grunted.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, exactly.” Blinky patted his shoulder, before turning back to Strickler, “This responsibility unfortunately falls to you.”</p><p> </p><p>He stared dumbly, stuck on AAARRRGGHH’s addition, “A—A <i>pacifist</i>? Him?”</p><p> </p><p>Blinky nodded, scooting closer to the gargantuan troll as he placed an almost protective hand on his hairy shoulder, “Yes, he swore off violence long ago. It’s for the best, really.”</p><p> </p><p>Strickler silently cursed out any gods still around, “Well, I suppose so.”</p><p> </p><p>AAARRRGGHH nodded exuberantly, “Thank you.’</p><p> </p><p>Strickler inched ever closer to a complete nervous breakdown.</p><p> </p><p>“I have to keep my identity hidden.” He mused, still resolutely ignoring the mounting hysteria building inside of him, “I'll have to make a stop first, then we can go find young Misters Lake and Domzalski."</p><p> </p><p>"Joyous! Will you be using one of those delightful automobiles?" Blinky clapped with a single-minded focus.</p><p> </p><p>Strickler pinched the bridge of his nose, "I'm… going to go. If you can, follow from the sewers."</p><p> </p><p>"Oh, right, of course!" Blinky laughed, having the good manner to at least look sheepish.</p><p> </p><p>He sighed and heaved himself to his feet, world weary and already anticipating a possible disaster. Stepping away, he didn't look back as he marched over to his car parked down the street.</p><p> </p><p>Bular couldn't be allowed to go after humans, human children especially. If the brute wanted a Trollhunter, he'd get one. He hadn't planned on making an appearance this early, but desperate times called for desperate measures. </p><p> </p><p>Pulling open the door and sliding into the seat, Strickler carefully eyed the setting sun. Less than a half hour of relative safety. He would have to be quick. As he shoved the key into the ignition and turned it, he sighed, barely able to stop himself from hitting his forehead on the steering wheel. Tonight was going to be difficult.</p>
<hr/><p>James Lake Junior liked to think he was a simple guy, if nothing else. Well, he also liked to think he had some fun qualities too. Like cooking, or hanging out with Toby, or even failing at talking to a girl he liked. Point was that he was mostly average.</p><p> </p><p>His biggest worries were, in order; the inevitability of adulthood and becoming his own person, Claire, getting decent grades in most of his classes, making sure his mom didn't burn out, and trying not to get beat up by Steve. Maybe not incredibly interesting, but he, for the most part, liked his life. He liked his mom, his school, his friends.</p><p> </p><p>So when Toby—Toby who'd been there for him since his dad bounced, Toby who'd lasted through all his experimental cooking phases with only a grin and a few well-timed quips, Toby who'd been an infallible source of support for more than two-thirds of his life—called him out of nowhere, begging for help because some gnarly mutated raccoons were attacking him right after he spent eight hours at the dentist, shrieking, "Please Jimbo, I don't wanna go back, don't let me go back!" Jim, though staring oddly at the phone in hand, agreed with almost no hesitation.</p><p> </p><p>He expected maybe one or two possibly rabid animals, frothing at the mouth while they jumped his oldest friend. He had animal control's number ready to go and the expectation for a new rabies shot to be stuck in his arm.</p><p> </p><p>But snarling green monsters, numbering in the dozens as they held Toby trapped against the back of his own house, chuckling roughly as tiny noises of fear slipped out? <i>That</i> was nothing like Jim had expected.</p><p> </p><p>"Jimbo!" Toby shrieked tearfully as Jim hopped over the fence that encircled the backyard.</p><p> </p><p>The fucked-up green raccoons turned to look at him and he froze, understandably. With almost glowing red eyes, two broke off from the larger group, walking slowly toward him, pushing him against the fence.</p><p> </p><p>His eyes flicked from Toby who was breathing heavily as the horde of things inched ever closer, to the easily scalable fence behind him. It would've been easy to leave him.</p><p> </p><p>Forcing the thought down, horrified at the mere suggestion of leaving Toby—<i>Toby</i>—at the mercy of such unfamiliar, and probably dangerous, creatures, Jim searched the immediate area. His eyes caught on rusty metal tucked next to the bottom of the fence.</p><p> </p><p>The two green monsters chuckled as they got closer, and Jim, taking in a shaky breath, leapt to the side before any more ground could be lost. Gracelessly he fell to the ground, on his hands and knees as he desperately searched. His hand brushed a damp wooden handle, and with renewed strength, grasped it tightly.</p><p> </p><p>The unfamiliar chattering of the raccoons—or whatever the hell they were—came from right behind him. With an unfamiliar deftness, he pushed himself up to his knees, and with a great shout, swung the old shovel around.</p><p> </p><p>The end caught the little monsters by surprise, smashing them both against the unyielding fence as they burst into green goo. He yelped and fell back again.</p><p> </p><p>"Woohoo! Way to go, Jimbo!" Toby cheered over the uneasy rumbling of the creatures.</p><p> </p><p>"Oh—oh my god! Did I just kill them?" He scrambled against slick grass, "Toby, did I just kill them?!"</p><p> </p><p>"Uh, I don't think it matters when they're trying to kill us, dude!" Toby shouted.</p><p> </p><p>He whipped his head to see that the weird green animals had stopped their assault, and were pointedly focused on <i>him</i> instead of Toby.</p><p> </p><p>"Tobes… I think I made them mad." Jim shuddered.</p><p> </p><p>"Uh, ya think?!"</p><p> </p><p>"ENOUGH!" Came rumbling from deep in the woods, obscured by waning light and gnarled branches.</p><p> </p><p>Jim froze, heart constricting. It didn't sound like anything he'd ever heard. Whatever it had come from was big and loud, two things that didn't bode well for him.</p><p> </p><p>The things, or whatever, scattered, leaving only a few behind to keep Toby surrounded. Some bounded over to Jim, who found that as the large shadow creeped closer from the woods, the creatures weren't nearly as worrisome as before.</p><p> </p><p>Two bright yellow and red eyes pierced through the dark. He gulped. It stomped closer, lumbering as the ground shook with each step, pushing the final few branches aside as the dull light finally fell upon it.</p><p> </p><p>Looming at the edge of the woods, the beast—there was no other way to describe it in Jim's mind, that thing and the fear it inspired was utterly <i>inhuman</i>—was <i>huge</i>, twice as tall as him, and almost as wide, a deep unsaturated ash coating its entire body. A crown of unified horns wrapped across its head, curling around its face, chipped from use. A hollow grin splayed darkly on its face.</p><p> </p><p>"Little flashbag." The words reverberated under his skin, the deep bass trickling uncomfortably into his ears, "Tell me, has Merlin's amulet revealed its true nature to you?"</p><p> </p><p>"H—huh?" Jim squeaked. </p><p> </p><p>"Don't play dumb, boy." The beast pointed a <i>sword</i> at him, "The amulet. The goblins wouldn't have come for you if you weren't in the canals while it was searching."</p><p> </p><p>"Wha—I have <i>no</i> clue what you're talking about!" Jim sat up, shouting.</p><p> </p><p>"Silence!" It roared, spittle flying from its open mouth. Adjusting the mottled sword so it pointed at him despite the distance, it spoke again, "If you're going to lie to <i>me</i> then perhaps I should forgo the formalities and cleave you in half!"</p><p> </p><p>"Ah, no, no, no! I'm not lying!" Jim put up his hands, "R—Right, Tobes?"</p><p> </p><p>His friend glanced over, eyes wide in shock and indignation. Toby looked back at Bular with a pained smile, "Uh, yes, Mr. Scary-Monster, sir! Jim's telling the truth. I would know!"</p><p> </p><p>"<i>You</i>!" The beast turned to Toby, focusing with deadly intent, "Did the amulet make you it's champion instead?"</p><p> </p><p>"Uh, I dunno about any amulet, but there's extra lunch in my backpack if you want it!" Toby quickly offered, shrill voice rising as the beast began walking forward, "It's a Jimbo original! So you know it's good!"</p><p> </p><p>The beast, in one fell swoop, demolished part of Toby's fence. His friend let out a ghastly shriek as he trembled against the back of his house, the little green monsters backing away from their approaching master.</p><p> </p><p>The dark creature levelled its blade at Toby's head, darkly looking on with barely hidden derision.</p><p> </p><p>"If you're not going to hand over the amulet, then you can be my next meal. The Impure told me not to kill you two but I think he's grown attached." The beast tilted his head, "Let's see how much he likes you when your flesh is stripped from your body and your bones ground to dust."</p><p> </p><p>"Tobes!" Jim scrambled to his feet.</p><p> </p><p>He took one step forward before something jumped on his shoulders and arms, pitching him forward and to the ground. Pinning him down, sharp nails dug into his arm, close to breaking skin. The green <i>things</i> just laughed at his weak attempts to throw them off.</p><p> </p><p>Turning his head to the side, he watched through a layer of falling hair as the beast turned to him, keeping the blade pointed at Toby.</p><p> </p><p>"Don't worry." It broadly smiled, "You'll be next."</p><p> </p><p>"No!" Jim struggled uselessly, the weight of the goblins—the creature had called them that, right?—keeping him in place. "NO!"</p><p> </p><p>The beast swung its sword back, preparing to strike the gory blow. Jim couldn't tear his eyes away, the hysterical belief that this couldn't be real slowly shredding with each second.</p><p> </p><p>A figure—swathed in silver and shimmering blue light—leapt into view. </p><p> </p><p>From Jim's vantage point, head pressed into the ground and vision half obscured by dirt, he could see the moment their feet connected to the earth, the slamming ricochet of clanging metal echoing in the yard. They had to have come from behind him, vaulting over the fence.</p><p> </p><p>In a split second there was a clash of noise as their sword—long, wide, and blindingly reflective—collided with the beast's. The beast, wide eyed and completely in shock, stumbled back.</p><p> </p><p>"<i>Trollhunter</i>." It bit with equal parts awe and anger.</p><p> </p><p>The armored figure, turning so Jim could see beyond the back of their body, didn't speak. Donning a ski mask, brand new judging by the glaring tag sticking out, the <i>Trollhunter</i>—a title Jim was not going to analyze for the sake of his own sanity—took another swing at the beast. Blocking and forcing the sword to the side, the beast snarled, lowering itself to charge.</p><p> </p><p>With barely a clank from their armor as they moved, the Trollhunter darted past the monster as it swiped, heading straight for the woods. The beast swung its blade, barely missing the figure as the weapon buried itself in the dirt. Tugging it, the beast growled harshly until it was finally pulled out.</p><p> </p><p>"After him, or I'll rip your legs off one by one and feast on your quivering bodies!" It roared with renewed conviction, as the goblins began speeding after the silver suited fighter.</p><p> </p><p>It huffed, stopping to look between a dazed Jim and a trembling Toby. With a growl, it forced itself forward, picking up speed as it moved further away into the woods, after its apparent quarry.</p><p> </p><p>Jim, exhausted, terrified, and in complete disbelief, slowly crawled up on shaky hands and knees. He stared listlessly at Toby until his friend caught his gaze and shrugged with bulging eyes.</p><p> </p><p>"Dude…" Jim breathed, heaving as the reality of the past few minutes began to hit him. "<i>Dude</i>."</p><p> </p><p>Toby peeled himself away from the back of his house, chips of paint flaking down from his dislodgement. Looking around, the sudden lack of noise too good to be true, he made certain of their barely grasped safety. He stared emptily at Jim.</p><p> </p><p>"Jimbo, I think we got ourselves into something bad."</p><p> </p><p>Jim shot up to his feet, throwing his hands out, "You—You think, Tobes?!"</p><p> </p><p>Toby jumped back, a scolding look fleeting on his face, "Don't yell at me just because you're confused. It's not helping!"</p><p> </p><p>Jim ran a hand over his face, replying stiltedly, "Sorry, Tobes. Just… <i>what</i> the actual <i>hell</i> is happening?"</p><p> </p><p>"I believe I can answer that!" A new voice called out from the other side of the fence.</p><p> </p><p>They screamed in complete unison. Immediately grabbing at each other's forearms, they turned simultaneously. In horror, they watched as one pair of eyes became three as some new monster peaked over the fence.</p><p> </p><p>Ignoring their shrieks, the six-eyed being turned to its side, "AAARRRGGHH, my considerable companion, I believe it's safe to come out now."</p><p> </p><p>"Blinky sure?" A deep voice echoed from next to "Blinky".</p><p> </p><p>"I'm quite certain." The blue-skinned monster assured the voice.</p><p> </p><p>"Okay."</p><p> </p><p>The second biggest—and Jim was absolutely <i>floored</i> there was a scale for this now—monster he'd ever seen lifted itself into view.</p><p> </p><p>"Oh my god." He whispered, "Tobes, am I hallucinating?"</p><p> </p><p>"If you are then somehow I'm seeing what you're seeing." Toby hysterically replied. He stopped. "You are seeing really weird stone monsters, right?"</p><p> </p><p>"Yes!" Jim almost shouted, clapping a hand over his mouth and looking over at the two other creatures that had appeared. </p><p> </p><p>They hadn't noticed, both too busy softly speaking to one another with a kind of timeless gentility that threw him entirely off kilter. It was the emotional equivalent of cold water being tossed in his face with how disconnected it was from everything else he'd just experienced. Tilting his head, he studied them as Toby also began to take notice.</p><p> </p><p>Just as quickly, they turned away from each other, focusing on Jim and Toby with an almost manic burst of energy. The two boys felt a uniform jolt of fear freeze them in place.</p><p> </p><p>"Now, if you could both come with us before Bular decides to come back, that would be splendid." Blinky clapped his hands together.</p><p> </p><p>They spoke together.</p><p> </p><p>"Huh?"</p><p> </p><p>"What's a Bular?"</p><p> </p><p>"...as much as I would love to answer your queries, we really have no time for this." Blinky turned to the creature draped in green hair, gesturing to the two terrified boys, "AAARRRGGHH, if you would."</p><p> </p><p>With a great grunt, the larger thing leapt up and over the fence. Landing back down, the ground shaking with the sheer force of the collision, it surged forward, reaching out with hands that could easily crush their heads without any real effort.</p><p> </p><p>When Jim closed his eyes, panting as he clung onto Toby, he fully expected to never open them again. A strange thing, to accept death in a singular moment. He would miss his mom, miss her laugh, miss her tired, exhausted smile when he made her breakfast, miss <i>everything</i> about her.</p><p> </p><p><i>Sorry, guess I'm not coming home</i>. He thought as something rough and solid curled around him.</p><p> </p><p>The pain, all enveloping and excruciating, never came.</p><p> </p><p>He dared to open his eyes as the wind rushed past his face and his stomach tilted as he was yanked off the ground. Tucked against the broad, solid chest of the larger creature, he stared in a wondrous shock as they careened down Arcadia's streets and into the woods. The terrain was rough and he found himself involuntarily gripping the arm tighter. Looking to the side, he tried not to inappropriately giggle as the six-eyed creature pumped it's many shorter arms to keep up.</p><p> </p><p>Nudging Toby, who had been silently trembling the entire time, Jim waited patiently as his friend cracked open a wary eye. As the creature rounded a corner, the force tugging at him uncomfortably, Toby yelped, throwing his hands up as a branch smacked his face.</p><p> </p><p>"We should be at the canal in another minute or so!" Blinky shouted, out of breath as he kept falling behind AAARRRGGHH—though Jim was skeptical about <i>that</i> being a name. "That should be enough time for us to get these two to safety and the Trollhunter to distract Bular!"</p><p> </p><p>Jim felt the dip as AAARRRGGHH nodded.</p><p> </p><p>It didn't take nearly as long as they thought to get to the canal, the streetlights shining their way through the multitudes of swaying leafs, pinpricks of light among a sea of earthy green. The trunks began to grow thinner until the trail spit them out in front of the cement basin.</p><p> </p><p>Jim's heart sunk as the weightlessness of AAARRRGGHH leaping into the canal at full speed caught up with him. Toby shrieked from beside him, and had he not been scared of biting his own tongue off in the landing, he would've done the same. The landing sent shockwaves of mild pain throughout their bones.</p><p> </p><p>The bounding of the creature sent him rocking back and forth as they aimed straight for the underside of the bridge, deep into the cascading shadows of the already lightness night. Jim swallowed as they skidded to an abrupt stop.</p><p> </p><p>"The Horngazel!" Blinky pulled something out of a satchel and tossed it to AAARRRGGHH.</p><p> </p><p>The glowing crystal—<i>Horngazel</i>—was grabbed with an impressive dexterity as AAARRRGGHH kept his other arm secured firmly around Jim and Toby. It left a glowing arc as it was dragged over concrete, a fact Jim numbly acknowledged as real despite—and maybe <i>because of</i>—the bizarreness of the entire day. Then, of course, AAARRRGGHH slammed his fist into the middle of the newly created arch and the stone broke away in a brilliant orange glow. That one was a little harder to digest.</p><p> </p><p>Before he had time to think or say or do anything, he and Toby were unceremoniously tossed inside. Passing through the levitating stone without feeling anything, they landed roughly and came to a rolling halt on uneven stone ground. Jim sat up, his hands supporting him as he dazedly watched AAARRRGGHH come to and stop in the threshold. Blinky remained beyond, partially obscured by his lumbering friend.</p><p> </p><p>"Go! Don't worry, I'll be right behind!" Blinky's voice echoed in, the desperation easily mirrored on AAARRRGGHH's face.</p><p> </p><p>"Blinky come with!" The giant insisted.</p><p> </p><p>"AAARRRGGHH, you know full well that I can't just let another student…" Blinky trailed off, uncomfortably looking away.</p><p> </p><p>It was silent as AAARRRGGHH's head tilted forward, bumping into Blinky's. Quietly, they heaved a weary sigh, leaning on each other. They didn't seem to want to pull away. It was obviously something so very intimate that Jim, guilty for having inadvertently spied upon them, averted his eyes from it.</p><p> </p><p>"Oh, my dear friend, I am sure this will be but a mere moment apart."</p><p> </p><p>"Don't like it."</p><p> </p><p>"Neither do I, but it must be done all the same. I trust you'll watch over them with care." Blinky stepped back, holding the Horngazel that AAARRRGGHH had given back, "Goodbye, my dearest companion."</p><p> </p><p>"Come back." AAARRRGGHH insisted, begrudgingly letting the wall close up once again.</p><p> </p><p>Blinky's pained face was not hard to miss as cement reformed, walling them off from the outside. Jim glanced at Toby, who shrugged in response. They didn't know what was going to happen next.</p><p> </p><p>Jim didn't look behind him, further into the dark cave. Mysterious glowing entrance be damned. It felt wrong, somehow, like he'd be leaving Blinky—some story book <i>monster</i> he'd met five minutes ago—to his fate with… <i>Bular</i>. And that Trollhunter… they had saved his life and Toby's, he had to at least thank them for it.</p><p> </p><p>So he waited. Waited as joints grew stiff and pants cold from the rocky floor, staring blankly where the magic portal had been.</p><p> </p><p>He almost toppled over when a tremor ripped through the concrete, dust flaking off as something thudded. The scuffle was short, it had to be, for a bright line to start carving itself into stone. The Horngazel. </p><p> </p><p>AAARRRGGHH pushed Jim and Toby back, standing in front with a grim set to his wide face. Jim blinked. Bular could've gotten it. Blinky and the Trollhunter could have already been gone, that sword sunk deep into the chests. He allowed himself the respite of closing his eyes as the wall broke itself apart.</p><p> </p><p>Blinky's timbre screaming filled the air as Jim's eyes popped open, the creature dashing through. Jim leaned over to try and peak through the wavering entrance, trying to catch a glimpse of the armor that had seared itself into his memory.</p><p> </p><p>Sparks danced at the edges of what he could see, always just out of sight. Until a sword swung in clear view, dozens of feet out, the Trollhunter clinging to it before they let go. Momentum carried them through the air, though not gently, as they were dropped and metal scraped on man-made stone.</p><p> </p><p>Pushing themself up, they limped to the ever waning portal only a few feet away. Bular roared from behind, winding up to charge and launching forward. With a forceful surge, the Trollhunter threw themself forward, trying to scramble past the threshold as it began to close.</p><p> </p><p>It wouldn't be quick enough. Not nearly. Bular was already halfway there. Jim swallowed, steadying himself, before jumping to his feet.</p><p> </p><p>Rushing towards the fallen figure, he grabbed onto the upper part of their arm—metal warm and inviting to the touch—and <i>tugged</i>. Digging his heels into the ground, they collectively fell back after a moment of struggle, the magicked entrance sealing shut a second after.</p><p> </p><p>Bular collided with the wall but it did not break apart or burst into light. They were safe. Jim turned to Toby with an ecstatic grin.</p><p> </p><p>The Trollhunter groaned, pushing themself up as one arm curled around their midsection. Jim dropped down next to them.</p><p> </p><p>"Whoa, are you okay? Um, if it's bad, maybe I can look at it? My mom's a doctor so—"</p><p> </p><p>"Oh, Master Walter is fine I'm sure." Blinky said, despite the uneasiness of his own statement, "At least, nothing life threatening I hope?"</p><p> </p><p>Walter? Now where had Jim heard that before…</p><p> </p><p>The Trollhunter reached up to their mask, grabbing around their neck and pulling it off in one swift motion. Jim stared for a second before it hit him. The familiar hair, the familiar face, the familiar <i>name</i>.</p><p> </p><p>"Nothing a bit of Tylenol can't handle." Mr. Strickler—<i>Mr. Strickler</i>—replied from the ground through the sounds of poorly concealed grunts.</p><p> </p><p>Toby's jaw officially dropped, "Mr. <i>Strickler</i>?!"</p><p> </p><p>His mild mannered history teacher turned to him like he really hadn't remembered Jim or Toby were there. Mr. Strickler open and shut his mouth, before leaning his head back and sighing.</p><p> </p><p>"Hello Mr. Domzalski, Mr. Lake."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>As you can see we've diverged from canon now. It's still gonna follow it loosely but really not the same. Jim still had a breakdown, hence why he visits Strickler, but it's not for troll related reasons, he just over focused on his problems and like, did NOT sleep. Normal teenage shit. Then with Nomura having to take over Strickler's place more often, it'll definitely change things. She really seems like she'd let Bular do more of what he wants just so she doesn't have to deal with him, and Bular would like that. Strickler is falling out of favor with him and without that power then Bular would ignore him more often, hence why Bular went after Jim and Toby a day or so early.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Debase the Face They Can't Seem to Save</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The new Trollhunter and Co. are introduced to Trollmarket</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Happy New Year! This follows canon as a baseline, but with some changes, next chapter is gonna get into it tho. Here's my <a href="https://innogens-breadsticks.tumblr.com/post/639869945116819456/a-devil-resides-behind-your-smile-chapter-4">Tumblr</a>, feel free to pop on over!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Strickler really had tried to keep everything under control. He'd had a plan; a workable, halfway decent one. Hell, he'd even had a chart! But, alas, even the best plans went awry in the end. His years spent in the Janus Order had taught him that much.</p><p> </p><p>Jim was never supposed to know. Bular was never supposed to be allowed after humans without his say so. His slow induction into Trollmarket was supposed to be controlled, enough time to accommodate the shock of the general population and ease their apprehension. Eventually, he'd gain their trust and once he had enough leverage and the bridge was completed, he'd come clean.</p><p> </p><p>The bridge needed the amulet and Gunmar needed Trollmarket, both things Strickler would've been able to provide. A way to secure both his future and the future of all Changelings. It should have been relatively simple, straightforward.</p><p> </p><p>Now, with both Jim and Tobias staring in open mouthed shock, Strickler was making harried adjustments to his already rushed plan.</p><p> </p><p>He tried sitting up further, before the shooting pain in his gut reminded him of the reason he'd needed to be dragged to safety in the first place. Curling in with only a mild groan, he was relieved to have gotten off so easy.</p><p> </p><p>"Mr. Strickler, are you…" Jim trailed off reaching out with a hesitant hand.</p><p> </p><p>"I'll be fine, Mr. Lake." He hissed in between waves of pain, though he still turned to look at Blinky accusingly, "Although I think I'll be better once the amulet runs its course."</p><p> </p><p>"Actually, Master Walter, the amulet responds to <i>your</i> emotional state, so the continued use of the armor is actually, uh, dependent on you." Blinky tapped his hands together.</p><p> </p><p>Strickler raised an eyebrow, "So it could activate at any random moment? That's what you're telling me?"</p><p> </p><p>“Well, not any random moment per se, just in times of extreme emotional distress.” Blinky shrugged.</p><p> </p><p>Strickler blinked. “Like with the realization that an entirely different race of beings lives under you?”</p><p> </p><p>That was the edited version of events, though the emotion behind his words was genuine. His entire world had been upended in a way, it was no wonder his emotional state was tad off.</p><p> </p><p>“...perhaps. Though, you are the first human the amulet has chosen, so there are bound to be some… complications.”</p><p> </p><p>“Wonderful.” He rolled his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>He wasn’t quite human, but a Changeling was certainly different from a Troll, no matter the superficial physiological similarities. With that, he took in a deep breath, forcing his heart to calm. As the rate lowered, the pulsing of the amulet subsided. With a bright flash, the armor was gone, and the amulet fell into his waiting hand.</p><p> </p><p>Jim looked at his friend with wide eyes, swiveling back to stare in awe and horror at Blinky and AAARRRGGHH. He put his head in his hands as he began hysterically laughing, poignant little bits of panic that caught Strickler off guard as he tucked the amulet away once more.</p><p> </p><p>“Do you—this is—I can’t even—” He broke off into choking sobs, “What in the <i>world</i> is happening?!”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, right.” Blinky nodded, tapping his chin, “We did not have the time to explain everything before getting them to safety.”</p><p> </p><p>“You kidnapped us!” Tobias rebuked, pointing at the two Trolls.</p><p> </p><p>Strickler, who had been rubbing his sore head, stopped as he turned to Blinky. </p><p> </p><p>"Kidnapped? I told you to make sure they were safe from Bular!"</p><p> </p><p>"And we did!" Blinky argued, crossing his four arms, "There was just no time."</p><p> </p><p>"Well there bloody is now!" He hissed.</p><p> </p><p>"So be it!" Blinky bit with a good amount of spite, turning to a terrified Jim and Tobias with an unfair amount of barely suppressed anger. "We are creatures known as Trolls, we have existed in the shadows for millennia without widespread human acknowledgement. And your educator has taken on a mantle only wielded by the most worthy of souls, a traditionally Troll position referred to as the Trollhunter."</p><p> </p><p>"...<i>what</i>?!" Jim threw his hands out from his head, bug-eyed.</p><p> </p><p>"I'm sorry?" Tobias said, voice squeaking at decibels previously thought impossible.</p><p> </p><p>"Jim, Tobias…" Strickler sighed, sitting up with a wince, "I know this is… <i>difficult</i> to digest, I've barely accepted it myself, but it is true, however preposterous it may seem. I really had hoped to leave other people out of this."</p><p> </p><p>Jim shook his head, in immediate denial. "Mr. Strickler, you—you can't expect me to believe this!"</p><p> </p><p>Tobias leaned in, grabbing Jim's shoulder. "I dunno, Jim… it makes more sense than anything <i>I</i> can think of."</p><p> </p><p>“So what then, Tobes? Trolls exist!” Jim threw an accusing finger at Strickler. “And they chose our history teacher as what? Some—some sort of Trollfighter?”</p><p> </p><p>“Trollhunter.” AAARRRGGHH corrected.</p><p> </p><p>“Whatever!” Jim snapped, “This is bonkers! You all know this is bonkers, right?! All because of that… that <i>thing</i>” He gestured to the pulsating magic device stuck on Strickler’s chest. “I don’t know why, but this is all because of that “amulet”, right?”</p><p> </p><p>“You are unfortunately right, young Jim.” Blinky acquiesced, having the decency to look shamed as he refused to meet the young boy’s eyes, “Bular went after you and your stout friend here because he caught your scent in the canals when the amulet was searching for a new champion.”</p><p> </p><p>“See! What did I tell you? Bad news!” Jim turned to Strickler, “Mr. Strickler, there—there has to be some way out of this!"</p><p> </p><p>Strickler tilted his head with an inordinate amount of gentleness. Oh, how he sympathized, truly. Jim was terrified, panicked about some new horror that had previously been locked away as an impossibility. But now that the blindfold was torn away? He couldn't cope.</p><p> </p><p>"I'm afraid that's impossible." Blinky sighed, "The amulet is now bonded to him, despite the doubts you have, it's a lifetime commitment. This isn't something Master Walter can refuse."</p><p> </p><p>Now that was an unfortunate truth. Though the "lifetime" was always greatly reduced when the amulet came into the play.</p><p> </p><p>"But he—and <i>us</i>—almost died!"</p><p> </p><p>"Almost, a very important word. A life of almost is a life of never!" Blinky quickly bounced back.</p><p> </p><p>"Eventually that "almost" will disappear and—BOOM!" Tobias interjected, jumping up, "Eaten alive!"</p><p> </p><p>"Very vivid!" Blinky earnestly complimented, "Though, by saving you, Master Walter has proved that it is an outside party that wields the amulet. Bular may very well lose interest in you."</p><p> </p><p>"I think that may be a bit hasty." Strickler winced with each word.</p><p> </p><p>All eyes turned to him, expectantly waiting for more. Despite the gut wrenching pain that constricted his organs, his mind remained dangerously sharp.</p><p> </p><p>"Well, I may have proved that neither of them have the amulet, but Bular will connect the dots. He'll know going after them will provoke some sort of reaction from me." Strickler explained, using his "teacher" voice. A habit he fell into when dealing with a truly astounding amount of stupidity, usually with Bular.</p><p> </p><p>"Oh, that may be a problem." Blinky conceded.</p><p> </p><p>“You think?!” Tobias hissed.</p><p> </p><p>“Nonetheless, we are in Heartstone Trollmarket now, and I’m hesitant to believe that no solution could be found here.” Blinky pointed upward, “Come now, I think it’s time to present our new Trollhunter.”</p><p> </p><p>Strickler grimaced. He needed to think of something. Trollmarket, though a self proclaimed safe haven, was not nearly as open minded as they wanted others to think. A human Trollhunter would certainly receive <i>mixed</i> reactions to say the least. Would they even try to test him, or were they presuming that the amulet would know better than to choose one of Gunmar’s servants? He could only hope.</p><p> </p><p>Still, he was too injured to run, it would be another few hours before he could heal up enough to make a break for it if he played his cards right. Perhaps Jim’s denial would be able to stave off any doubts, but Tobias seemed more likely to buy into the idea. If he really needed to, his wings would be able to get him far enough away for a decent head start. </p><p> </p><p>Thoughts whirring, he began to slowly get to his knees; a sharp, burning bolt of pain tore through his leg. Faltering as he bit down a gasp, a sudden pair of hands grabbed at his shoulder.</p><p> </p><p>“Mr. Strickler! Are you—” Jim started, before dropping him and jumping away. “Ah, what is that <i>smell</i>?”</p><p> </p><p>Strickler took being dropped to the ground and the subsequent jolt of pain with a grain of salt. Jim really hadn’t expected it, he told himself as he briefly imagined wringing the boy’s neck. He needed to keep his scent hidden <i>somehow</i>.</p><p> </p><p>“Wait? What is it?” Tobias scrambled over next to his friend, curiosity unable to be satiated fast enough. He sniffed the air almost comically, recoiling just as fast, “Is that—<i>body spray</i>?</p><p> </p><p>Strickler pulled back, rolling his eyes. “If Bular hadn’t caught my scent from the canals then I needed to make sure he wouldn’t get it when I fought him.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, but <i>AXE</i>?” Jim almost gagged, “Oh, that is <i>nasty</i>.”</p><p> </p><p>“Need I remind you that I’m only aware of its <i>unique</i> strength because of how many times the boys locker room has been, quote unquote, “AXE-bombed”?” Strickler raised an eyebrow.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay, yeah, fair, but like <i>ugh</i>.” Tobias shuddered. </p><p> </p><p>He couldn’t fault the boy for it, that had been his reaction when he’d experienced first hand the horrors of teenage machinations when it came to odor-masking spray. Still, Jim took a gulping breath, and with a steady determination, grabbed his arm once again and began helping him up.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, that is a rather pungent aroma.” Blinky agreed, pinching his rather large orange nose, AAARRRGGHH nodding mutely from behind him. “I’m sure it’ll, uh, dissipate.”</p><p> </p><p>“I wouldn’t hope too hard.” Tobias muttered, “That stuff sticks around for <i>weeks</i>, way longer than the aftermath of a Diablo Maximus—”</p><p> </p><p>“Tobes!” Jim warned, steadying the teacher while shooting him a cutting look.</p><p> </p><p>“What? It’s <i>true</i>.” Tobias pouted, crossing his arms almost petulantly.</p><p> </p><p>“Not the time, man.” Jim muttered, pulling Strickler along.</p><p> </p><p>“This way, Master Walter, this way.” Blinky gestured widely as the crystal staircase, something he’d only heard stories about, lit the way down.</p><p> </p><p>Strickler let himself be awed for a second. He was going to see Trollmarket, the first Changeling to do so since Nomura’s disastrous infiltration mission. And the <i>Heartstone</i>. He needed it for purely strategic reasons, of course, seeing as Gunmar would feel the need to devour it as soon as he was free. But… he’d heard about it, it’s <i>warmth</i>, when Nomura—after her new boytoy ousted her and attempted to kill her—was drunk enough to let it slip how much she missed it. Almost more than the Troll that tried to murder her. Never let it be said that Kanjigar’s son was not as dedicated as his father to destroying <i>filth</i>. Briefly, Strickler wondered if the troll in question would be there.</p><p> </p><p>“Whoa…” Tobias exhaled in absolute wonder, drawing Strickler back from his thoughts. “I know this is a dumb thing to ask seeing as Bular hasn’t torn through that wicked cement gateway, but are you sure we’re safe?”</p><p> </p><p>“Indeed. The incantation forbids entry to Heartstone Trollmarket by Gumm-Gumms such as Bular, for they are the most fearsome of Trolls.” Blinky answered as he plodded down the crystalline steps.</p><p> </p><p>"Gumm-Gumms?" Jim repeated as he helped Strickler limp down another set of steps.</p><p> </p><p>"Scary ones." AAARRRGGHH translated, heaving down the stairs.</p><p> </p><p>A bit of a simplistic translation to be sure, but not inaccurate. Though, before he could ponder more on the subject, the group stopped, finally at the bottom of the circling stairway of magic. </p><p> </p><p>"Whoa." Jim stopped, breathless.</p><p> </p><p>"Wow." Tobias was much the same.</p><p> </p><p>A warmth, an aching, tantalizing <i>warmth</i>, socked him in the already injured stomach. The underground city was vast, dotted with brightly lit windows painting the endless horizon, smattered with the crawling of crystalline rocks draped in pale sunsets. Cut with rocky paths that had Trolls of every variety easily wandering about, it was split into sections of pure colour. It was a geologic wonder, how Arcadia Oaks hadn't collapsed into the echoing rocky stadium that was Heartstone Trollmarket.</p><p> </p><p>But that was <i>nothing</i> compared to the Heartstone.</p><p> </p><p>Nomura—wasted, world weary, and as close to heartbroken as someone built on the marriage of falsities and poison could be—had undersold just how <i>powerful</i> the rush was. Changelings didn't need Heartstone, another thing to separate them, another excuse to leave them strung along and desperate for the whispered promises of their Lady Creator, one more reason they were abominations of the highest degree. But oh gods, something ancient and intimate, something not even the darkest of magics could tear from his stone flesh, <i>yearned</i>.</p><p> </p><p>The open-eyed and slack jawed look on his face was taken as mere human surprise. Since Blinky, with a smug satisfaction that settled with an ugly resonance, gestured broadly.</p><p> </p><p>"This is the world you are bound to protect. <i>This</i> is Heartstone Trollmarket!"</p><p> </p><p>Oh, how wrong those words would be. He would doom it, doom all of its inhabitants to a life under Gunmar's rule. There was no guilt, none at all. Why shouldn't Trollmarket live as Changelings were forced to? After killing, hunting, and shunning so many from its tentative safety, Strickler could even say that he was looking forward to the day it fell. And it would be far sooner than anyone thought.</p><p> </p><p>“This is—” Tobias started, awestruck.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.” Jim interrupted, breathless by the sight of it all.</p><p> </p><p>“Whoa.”</p><p> </p><p>“Pretty much.”</p><p> </p><p>It was almost unnerving, how in sync they could be.</p><p> </p><p>“This is your home?” Jim asked, still stuck at Strickler’s side.</p><p> </p><p>“Trollmarket is home and hearth and sanctuary for all good Trolls.” Of course it was. “This way, my friends. There is much to see.”</p><p> </p><p>With that bold—and somewhat incorrect—proclamation, Blinky led them in. The troll apparently had no worries about how his fellow compatriots would view this… intrusion, to put it lightly. Though once he flashed that damn amulet, it would be more than enough to make them tolerate a “human” presence. If they weren’t suspicious.</p><p> </p><p>They were pulled into one of the many rushing streets, stalls and businesses lining the sides as trolls from every corner of the world milled about. Strickler had never seen so many in one place, not without fighting. But his view of the troll world was, ah, limited at best. They had been meaning to get an agent into Trollmarket, though there were few… qualifiable candidates for such a mission. Eyes began to land on them, taking a surprised note of their lackluster state.</p><p> </p><p>“Dang! And here I thought the only thing underneath our town was dirt and plumbing.” Tobias commented, head swiveling about to lap up anything he could catch a glimpse of.</p><p> </p><p>“Stay close.” Blinky warned, “Human feet have never graced the ground of Trollmarket before.”</p><p> </p><p>Strickler bit down a bitter laugh. Now <i>that</i> was some misdirecting wording. Already more had begun to take closer notice, finally clicking in their stone minds just how <i>wrong</i> the sight had to be. Mutters had begun to rise.</p><p> </p><p>“Humans?” One troll murmured.</p><p> </p><p>“Friends.” AAARRRGGHH declared, though he still growled as he blocked Strickler and Jim from the eyeline of some of the gathering crowd.</p><p> </p><p>“This is crazy.” Jim murmured, before turning his head to a still enraptured Tobias, “Are you getting this, Tobes?”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, yeah. On it!” Tobias whipped out his phone and began taking pictures, video. </p><p> </p><p>Strickler, as a member of a secretive organization bent on world domination for the doom of mankind, winced. Stealth was key.</p><p> </p><p>“Put that away, Mr. Domzalski.” He ordered through grit teeth.</p><p> </p><p>The boy stopped, pausing as his eyes began to widen. “But—But Mr. Strickler—”</p><p> </p><p>“Do as I say, you don’t want to risk angering them.” He grimaced as Jim adjusted his arm, “We’re already in unfamiliar territory.”</p><p> </p><p>Pouting, the boy stashed his phone in his back pocket, crossing his arms as he took in the sights without his cellular documenting. Restaurants of the feline kind were in multitudes, enough so that he winced at the yowling. Even in his troll form he never stooped to such base urges, the trolls fascination with socks eluded him even moreso. A clashing of metal drew his attention as even more troll occupations were revealed to him, mostly differing forms of vendors selling human contraptions. Strickler watched, slightly bemused, as Jim distracted a tattoo carver hard at work. The yelp that came after was almost humorous.</p><p> </p><p>“Whoa, check it out!” Tobias pointed, his dour expression melting away as something new caught his attention. “Peridot, topaz, cassiterite!” He ran straight into a larger troll, and Strickler paused as Tobias gasped, unaware of his position. “Kornerupine!”</p><p> </p><p>The boy looked up, and with a pained greeting, backed away. The troll didn’t follow, though it glared with bitter recrimination. Strickler turned back, sighing as he focused on Blinky. The troll was leading them somewhere. Perhaps to Trollmarket’s illustrious leader, Vendel? Or was it to the mystical forge of which the existence of was still disputed.</p><p> </p><p>“Your knowledge of minerals is almost troll-like, Tobias.” Blinky commented as the stout boy rushed to safety in the middle of the group.</p><p> </p><p>“So your kind, you all live here?” Jim asked before Tobias could respond.</p><p> </p><p>“Trolls travel from afar to our market to find comfort and remedies. You’ll find most anything you need and sometimes you’ll find what you never knew you needed.” Blinky proudly added.</p><p> </p><p>What a tagline. Strickler was almost impressed with the branding. Something rushed past his legs with pattering little steps. Suddenly, he was loath to look down. Jim, however, had not his experience or wisdom and craned his head for a better look. His face broke into a small smile as he tilted his head.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, hey, little guy!” He <i>cooed</i> to the insolent vermin that had gathered, “That’s a cute pointy hat!”</p><p> </p><p>Strickler waited for the inevitable other shoe. Growling now audible, he could feel the air change as it rushed at Jim’s feet.</p><p> </p><p>“And pointy teeth! Look out!” He cried, jumping back and hastily pulling Strickler with, who yelped as the change in position jostled one of his cracked ribs.</p><p> </p><p>Impressively fast, Blinky darted over, stomping wildly at the chattering little beasts. </p><p> </p><p>“Get away! Get out of here! Vile vermin! Begone!" The troll, someone Strickler had labelled as more of a bookish bystander, went after the Gnomes with a fierce, merciless intent.</p><p> </p><p>One darted far out of reach, stopping only to stick it's tongue out and obnoxiously blow it, before giggling and continuing on it's path of chaos. Awful little beasts. There used to be an infestation a year or so ago in the local Janus Order base before they were quickly purged. The cafeteria lunch menu had been especially interesting after they were all rounded up.</p><p> </p><p>"What is that?" Jim asked with a horrified edge, shuffling as he readjusted Strickler's arm.</p><p> </p><p>"Gnomes are vermin. Pickpockets, scum of the earth!" Blinky bit with an inordinate simmering rage, before his voice dropped back to its normal tone, "We only tolerate them for their grooming services."</p><p> </p><p>The group glanced to AAARRRGGHH, who sat idly and uncaring as a Gnome scampered on his shoulder, picking out bugs. As close to horrified as he allowed himself to be in the former general's presence, Strickler swallowed.</p><p> </p><p>"Grooming?"</p><p> </p><p>"They eat the parasites on the larger trolls." Blinky said casually, as the Gnome made a singular misstep before being flicked off of AAARRRGGHH's ear.</p><p> </p><p>"Jim! Jim! Check it out!" Tobias shouted from up ahead, "Maximum coolosity over here!"</p><p> </p><p>Jim turned to Strickler, an apology already written on his face before he even opened his mouth.</p><p> </p><p>Strickler rolled his eyes, "I can walk, Mr. Lake. Go meet your friend."</p><p> </p><p>"Thanks!" Jim chirped before easily pulling away, running after Tobias.</p><p> </p><p>He winced as he stood to full height. His leg would hurt for another hour, at least, but it was nothing serious. What was truly worrying were the ribs, Bular had cracked two or three when he'd tossed him across the canal. Not even Changeling biology would have it healed in time for tomorrow.</p><p> </p><p>"You have some excellent students."</p><p> </p><p>Strickler turned his head, staring mutely in the face of Blinky's compliment.</p><p> </p><p>"Well, that really has little to do with me." Strickler decided to laugh it off awkwardly, "They're merely good kids."</p><p> </p><p>"Good students are made by good teachers." Blinky insisted as he continued walking, AAARRRGGHH lumbering behind him. "Come now, Master Walter. Let's make sure they don't get into any trouble."</p><p> </p><p>Strickler rolled his eyes, but followed the two utterly oblivious trolls without protest. The crowd behind them was growing, following them with an uneasy rumbling. There'd be a confrontation soon. Thoughts of the inevitable were washed away as something pure hit him, invigorating, <i>enrapturing</i>.</p><p> </p><p>Jim and Tobias were standing by the railing, the area open and free of stalls and clutter, probably to serve as a sort of observation deck. The Heartstone was in full view, strikingly bright and filled with energy, the focal point of life in the boundless cavern.</p><p> </p><p>It's effects had waned in the midst of Trollmarket, out of sight and out of mind. Now that the glow was basking on his too-pale skin itching to be shed, the need burrowing it's way into his chest, Strickler tilted his head and wondered how he'd ever thought it's beauty exaggerated.</p><p> </p><p>"Heartstone." Blinky began, stepping next to the boys, an aching warmth simmering in his voice, "The life force of Trollkind. The means that keeps us from crumbling to stone and the source of light and sustenance."</p><p> </p><p>It was <i>home</i>, put simply. A brush of magic that called to him, so utterly, <i>insanely</i> familiar but entirely distant, shuddered off by the dark magic that warped his being. He knew, vaguely, that eventually the effect would wane over time. It would fade and be lost to him, like any human. There was an odd grief in that.</p><p> </p><p>"Okay, that's totally bomb." Tobias put succinctly. </p><p> </p><p>"What are humans doing here?"</p><p> </p><p>Oh, was it that time already? Uneasily, Strickler turned, attempting to keep his weight off his bad leg. At least it wasn't an arm, he told himself. His shoulders always had been especially weak. Still, staring down the mounting crowd of disgruntled, <i>scared</i> trolls, didn't help his unease.</p><p> </p><p>"Fleshbag!"</p><p> </p><p>"Puny!"</p><p> </p><p>No shouts of Changelings, no calls for gaggletacks. A very small grace, but one he was thankful had been granted. Jim and Tobias were drawn to his side, staying close together just off his left.</p><p> </p><p>"I think we've attracted the paparazzi." Tobias mumbled. </p><p> </p><p>"Friends, there's no need to be afraid." Blinky addressed the crowd with an overly familiar tone, "He is the Trollhun—"</p><p> </p><p>Though Strickler was in front, with Blinky and AAARRRGGHH settled in firmly at the right, he remained utterly startled as some large blue troll shoved their way through the crowd. Lumbering ominously as large crystalline shards jutted out from their back, snorting in a way that tugged on their large nose ring, the Troll came to the front of the group, the obvious spokesperson.</p><p> </p><p>"What is this?!" They rumbled, slamming onto the ground with large fists that shook the earth.</p><p> </p><p>Feared, blue, and a multitude of emotional issues, it couldn't be…</p><p> </p><p>"I was just getting to that, Draal." Blinky nervously hurried to explain as the looming figure got closer.</p><p> </p><p>So it <i>was</i> the Troll that had broken Nomura's heart and screwed over their Trollmarket operation all in one. Of course Kanjigar's son would inherit all of his father's brutality and none of his finer qualities.</p><p> </p><p>"Human feet have never sullied the ground of Trollmarket before." Draal pushed in close, choosing to circle Strickler, who stood at the front. "Who are these <i>fleshbags</i>?" </p><p> </p><p>Spoken like the miserable whelp he was. Strickler, ignoring the worried glances of those around him, kept his stare on Draal, face schooled to utter boredom. Blankly, he turned to keep up as Draal attempted his juvenile intimidation, growling and huffing in his face. It was laughably easy to remain composed. At least Bular was entirely serious with his threats.</p><p> </p><p>"Believe it or not, he is, um, how do I put this?" Blinky paused, anxiously breaking. "Our new Trollhunter."</p><p> </p><p>The pandemonium unleashed was nothing close to the simple satisfaction of seeing Draal's face twist into unrecognizable fury. Feeling lucky, Strickler let his lips smooth into a smirk. It was risky to alienate such a powerful figure. But oh, did it feel <i>good</i>.</p><p> </p><p>"He can't be the Trollhunter!" Draal roared in his unmoving face, "He's not a troll!"</p><p> </p><p>Only when Draal threatened to squish him, did Strickler step away, though it was with a smooth step that he forced down his pain to complete. A fist came smashing down where he had stood. Easy enough to side-step when he so obviously gave it away. </p><p> </p><p>"Amulet chose." AAARRRGGHH growled, stepping forward to confront the brute.</p><p> </p><p>Growling with all the might he had, Draal got close, readying for a fight as he rolled his hulking shoulders back.</p><p> </p><p>"Show him, Strickler!" Tobias called out, interrupting the tense buildup.</p><p> </p><p>Jim, though caught off guard, was quick to join in, "Yeah, come on!"</p><p> </p><p>Turning smugly to the glowering beast, Strickler reached into his inner pocket and pulled out the amulet, baring it in his hand for all the world to see. For once, he didn't quite feel like a traitor as it pulsed warmly against his skin.</p><p> </p><p>"For the glory of Merlin—" He cut a severe look to Draal, "—Daylight is mine to command."</p><p> </p><p>It dinged, lighting up the world with blue and silver. Dragging him up in the air, magic severing the hold of gravity, the armor came easy, molding together in a wondrous show of power. With a flash, he was dropped back to the ground. Bending his knees on impact, and ignoring the twinge in his leg, Strickler languidly stood, giving the process a smooth finish.</p><p> </p><p>"Whoa…" Jim stared, wide-eyed as Tobias began hyperventilating.</p><p> </p><p>The crowd had only grown more wary, but Strickler kept his sights solely on the Troll that had been the most outspoken in his opposition.</p><p> </p><p>"A human? Protecting <i>us</i>?"</p><p> </p><p>One even <i>fainted</i>. They really were being overdramatic.</p><p> </p><p>"Bushigal! I am Draal, son of Kanjigar, and the amulet's rightful heir!"</p><p> </p><p>Ready to quip back, he forced himself to remain quiet. He hadn't been told about Kanjigar, the name would mean nothing to him in current state. So, very evenly, he turned to look at Blinky.</p><p> </p><p>"Kanjigar?" He repeated.</p><p> </p><p>"Oh, the previous Trollhunter. He was, um, felled the morning you found the amulet." Blinky hastily replied.</p><p> </p><p>"Ah." He tilted his head, "Thank you, Blinky."</p><p> </p><p>"The flashbag knows nothing of my father's great accomplishments?!" Draal roared, indignant. "He is unworthy, ignorant!"</p><p> </p><p>Strickler smiled saccharinely, "Not according to <i>your</i> father's amulet."</p><p> </p><p>The troll shattered into a pure blind rage, rushing at him. Strickler flexed his hand, the pooling energy ready to shape.</p><p> </p><p>AAARRRGGHH stepped in front before he could summon Daylight, headbutting Draal and sending him careening back.</p><p> </p><p>"Amulet <i>chose</i>!" The larger troll insisted, slamming a fist down.</p><p> </p><p>Strickler leaned to the side, catching a glimpse of Draal righting himself, pushing away from the crowd he'd been shoved into.</p><p> </p><p>"We'll see what Vendel has to say about this!" He spit, glaring vicious daggers at Strickler.</p><p> </p><p>He gave a toothy grin in response. Never let it be said that Changelings didn't know how to have fun. Especially with those who'd wronged them.</p><p> </p><p>Huffing, Draal stomped off to find the leader of Trollmarket.</p><p> </p><p>"Feel free to fetch him. In the meanwhile, lots of Trollhunter business to be done." Blinky called after, "Draal, wonderful to see you as always."</p><p> </p><p>Draal growled in response, eyeing each member of the group with a savage focus. Jim awkwardly smiled, raising a hand to bid him farewell. The troll turned, ready to leave.</p><p> </p><p>"Nice to know there's Steve Palchuks everywhere." Tobias muttered, disengaging from the spot he'd been rooted to.</p><p> </p><p>"Ugh, don't remind me." Jim shuddered.</p><p> </p><p>Strickler glared at the spot where Draal had been, a petty sort of habit he'd never quite grown out of. Still, as Blinky and AAARRRGGHH gestured for everyone to follow, he obliged, falling in pace next to the two teenagers who hadn't lost the spark of awe since they'd first seen the crystal staircase.</p><p> </p><p>The armor clanked with each step, each sound another dig at his patience. And he still didn't know where they were headed. Though, the entrance they were going into had a crude neon portrait of Daylight hanging over it. The forge then.</p><p> </p><p>"So… who was that dude. I know he said something about being the son of Cannon-jars?" Jim asked as he nervously looked at Blinky.</p><p> </p><p>"Kanjigar." Blinky corrected, "He was the previous Trollhunter. That was his son, Draal."</p><p> </p><p>"Oh." Jim took a beat, "So… what happened to him?"</p><p> </p><p>AAARRRGGHH and Blinky looked at each other, a shared expression of hesitance exchanged.</p><p> </p><p>Blinky answered despite the obvious trepidation, "He was, uh, killed. By Bular."</p><p> </p><p>Jim blanched, shooting Strickler a look of—<i>something</i>. He ignored it, focused only on the path ahead.</p><p> </p><p>"So when you say "lifetime commitment", you mean—" Jim started, turning away.</p><p> </p><p>"It's a sacred obligation that follows the bearer until death."</p><p> </p><p>"Ah. Right." Jim swallowed.</p><p> </p><p>"Oh, don't worry, Jimbo," Toby patted his shoulder in an attempt to comfort, "I'm sure this Kanjigar dude was off his game or something."</p><p> </p><p>"Unlikely, Kanigar was perhaps the most alert and able of all the Trollhunters." Blinky mused.</p><p> </p><p>"Yeah, but he wasn't like, the best, right?" Tobias questioned, slightly more nervous.</p><p> </p><p>"Oh the very best, many songs and sagas have been written about him." Blinky informed, oblivious to the horror on the boy's face.</p><p> </p><p>"You know, I think Jimbo and I here are just, um, worried." Tobias winced despite the wide smile, "'Cause if Bular could take down Kanjigar—"</p><p> </p><p>"Smash to pieces." AAARRRGGHH unhelpfully added.</p><p> </p><p>"—then what about Strickler?"</p><p> </p><p>"A most appropriate, if troubling, query, Tobias. Of course, we don't expect Master Walter to engage in any further battle without the proper training."</p><p> </p><p>"Oh good." Jim sighed, "And how long should that take?"</p><p> </p><p>Too long. He'd already had centuries of it and still wasn't nearly enough to properly fend off Bular.</p><p> </p><p>"Oh, um…" Blinky began to count on his hands, each stone finger sticking up and his eyes went in different directions, "...decades?"</p><p> </p><p>"What?!" Tobias squawked, "He doesn't have that much time! He's old!"</p><p> </p><p>Now <i>that</i> was uncalled for. Swiveling his head, he levelled a harsh glare at the boy.</p><p> </p><p>"Sorry, sir…" Tobias awkwardly laughed, shifting behind Jim. </p><p> </p><p>"But Bular's already found him, he doesn't have time for decades!" Jim insisted.</p><p> </p><p>"And Master Walter fought him off skillfully!"</p><p> </p><p>"Yeah, I've been wondering about that." Tobias raised his hand, "What was up with all the ninja moves?"</p><p> </p><p>Strickler sighed, "I used to fence, back when I was your age. I was rather good at it, too."</p><p> </p><p>It wasn't exactly a lie, he had been trained in sword fighting as a boy, among a variety of other techniques.</p><p> </p><p>Tobias wrinkled his nose. "Ugh, Britain and their weird sports."</p><p> </p><p>"It's practiced in the U.S. as well, Toby." Strickler tilted his head, "I believe Arcadia Oaks Academy has a well-rounded team this year."</p><p> </p><p>The ginger frowned at the mention of their rival school.</p><p> </p><p>"So you have experience in battle! Excellent." Blinky nodded, "That should cut down on time."</p><p> </p><p>"Before that..." Strickler turned his head to Blinky, "we need to discuss what's to be done with these two." He gestured to Jim and Tobias.</p><p> </p><p>"What?!" They shouted in unison.</p><p> </p><p>"Jim, Toby," Strickler began, slightly uneasy, "this is not your responsibility. We <i>will</i> find a way to keep you both safe from Bular, but after that…"</p><p> </p><p>"You don't want us to help." Jim realized, taking a step back.</p><p> </p><p>Tobias winced, putting a hand on Jim's shoulder, "Jimbo, he <i>is</i> the magical chosen one. Maybe we should—"</p><p> </p><p>"Should <i>what</i>, Tobes?!" Jim turned to him, voice rising, "Let him get hurt, or—or die! That's—I won't let that happen, no way!"</p><p> </p><p>"Jim, I'm an adult." His tone grew terse, "I can take care of myself."</p><p> </p><p>"You still got hurt!" Jim insisted, eyes wide with storming worry, "You can't just expect us to leave here in this—this new world as it's, what, protector?"</p><p> </p><p>"That's exactly what I'm asking." Strickler kept calm, though the corners of his eyes tightened, "You're young and already overwhelmed. My well-being does not rest on your shoulders."</p><p> </p><p>"And mine rests on yours?"</p><p> </p><p>"Apparently so." Strickler sighed, "Jim, <i>please</i> be reasonable—</p><p> </p><p>"Reasonable?!" Jim repeated, indignant and close to enraged, "How am I supposed to be <i>reasonable</i> when my history teacher is fighting evil trolls?!"</p><p> </p><p>"Because it's my job!" Strickler snapped.</p><p> </p><p>"So—so what happens when you don't come to school one day, huh? If your body is found ripped to shreds because of Bular?" Jim puffed his chest up, stepping closer, "Or what if you're never found at all, just—poof, gone. How am I supposed to feel <i>then</i>?"</p><p> </p><p>"You'll move on, you're young." Strickler said, voice tight and eyes set in a stubborn glare, "And the amulet will find someone else."</p><p> </p><p>"It's not about that <i>stupid</i> amulet!" Jim groaned, throwing his head back, "You're my favorite teacher, I don't want you to <i>die</i>."</p><p> </p><p>Oh. That was… <i>something</i>. He'd figured it, vaguely in some recess of his mind, but to hear it spoken was a different matter altogether.</p><p> </p><p>"I don't want to die either, Jim." Strickler admitted, the firm, unbreakable demeanor he donned finally softening. "But it's my job as an adult and an educator to prioritize your safety. And you and Toby will be best off staying far away from this Trollhunting business."</p><p> </p><p>Far, <i>far</i> away. They couldn't be involved. There'd only be more disappointment in the end.</p><p> </p><p>"And <i>we</i> disagree." Jim boldly proclaimed, throwing an arm around Tobias.</p><p> </p><p>"I mean, it <i>could</i> be cool." Tobias shrugged, refusing to meet Strickler's astonished gaze, "You're like a superhero! And a superhero has sidekicks!"</p><p> </p><p>"This isn't a comic book—" He began exasperatedly.</p><p> </p><p>"You're right. This is real life." Jim staunchly agreed, "And right now, an evil troll is threatening <i>my</i> life, so <i>I</i> should have some say so about how to deal with it!"</p><p> </p><p>He pinched the bridge of his nose. <i>Teenagers</i>.</p><p> </p><p>"I can't let you—"</p><p> </p><p>"We're not asking permission." Jim crossed his arms, "We're helping you. Now, you could oversee us, make sure we don't get hurt. Or…"</p><p> </p><p>"Turn us away. Then we'll have no resources when something else horrible comes after us." Tobias shrugged, "Your choice."</p><p> </p><p>Diabolical. Utterly and entirely evil and manipulative. Why couldn't more of his agents master the skills that focused adolescents could easily draw forth.</p><p> </p><p>"<i>Fine</i>." He spit, turning on his heel, barely flinching as a spike of pain went up his leg.</p><p> </p><p>"You know, Master Walter," Blinky began as Strickler tried to march away, "it isn't entirely uncommon for Trollhunters to have a… backup team of sorts."</p><p> </p><p>He smothered down the need for a rebuttal, seeing as he'd fought Trollhunters before, none of which had come to battle with a team. Still, he could feel the smug looks being burnt onto the back of his head.</p><p> </p><p>"Did Kanjigar have a team?" Strickler seethed.</p><p> </p><p>He was being ridiculous and he knew it. Still, if today's events didn't entitle him to a bit of selfish petulance, he didn't know what would.</p><p> </p><p>"Well, no…" Blinky admitted, "That was one of his only faults, that irritating urge to shoulder all his burdens alone."</p><p> </p><p>"Ah. I'm sure that made him a <i>fantastic</i> father."</p><p> </p><p>At that, Blinky paused, examining Strickler with a new intensity. He'd slipped up, showing so much scorn for a dead troll he wasn't supposed to have known.</p><p> </p><p>"If we're being honest—and I do hate to speak ill of the dead, especially in regards to someone like Kanjigar—but that was, I believe, one of his greater failings." Blinky admitted.</p><p> </p><p>Jim stepped forward, hesitant. "What do you mean?"</p><p> </p><p>"AAARRRGGHH and I used to watch Draal when he was a whelp." Blinky shot a look to his hulking companion, who nodded in return, "He fiercely looked up to his father since his mother was, um, not in the picture at that point. But Kanjigar… Kanjigar believed that in order to keep Draal safe, he had to keep himself at a distance. It… did more harm than good in the long run."</p><p> </p><p>"Ah. Daddy issues." Tobias nodded wisely, "Explains the anger."</p><p> </p><p>"Draal is grieving, though he won't admit it. He feels as though he's been scorned one last time." Blinky sighed, looking down, "I know it does nothing to excuse his attitude or actions, but it makes you understand the precarious nature of handling a dangerous life and a personal one."</p><p> </p><p>And wasn't that the story of his own experience? Always danger, always deceit being balanced out by an overwhelming mundanity.</p><p> </p><p>"It's important to learn from your predecessor's mistakes, but Master Walter…" Blinky looked almost pained, "please refrain from insulting Kanigar, however subtly. His death is a true blow to us all, and with the emotional fragility of the community… some might take it to heart."</p><p> </p><p>Strickler swallowed, throat dry, and nodded. </p><p> </p><p>"Of course." He distantly replied, "I apologize, it's just been a… hectic day."</p><p> </p><p>Blinky acknowledged it with a tilt of his head and nothing more. Strickler had struck a nerve already. Before he could ponder more on the ground he'd lost with Dictatious' long lost relative (he was almost sure of it now), the dark hallway enclosed by reflective stone ended, bathing the group in new light.</p><p> </p><p>The stone path made of twisting orange pillars was made unnerving by the plummeting void stretched around it. The <i>Deep</i>. He shuddered at the expanse, empty and filled with stories even <i>he</i> didn't want to know.</p><p> </p><p>Tearing his eyes away from the fateful drop that was only a step or two away, he followed it with his eyes until the ground spread into a wide arena, rising stone walls blocking it off with observation areas carved into it. It was half encircled by pillars with what looked to be statues at first glance. Upon closer inspection, the pure detail in their poses, the accuracy, could only be attributed to one possibility. They were bodies.</p><p> </p><p>Savage. And they had the gall to call <i>him</i> disturbing and grotesque.</p><p> </p><p>"Holy trolls!" Jim gasped, "Is this a palace?"</p><p> </p><p>It was impressive, sure, but a <i>palace</i>? Surely he'd taught him better than that.</p><p> </p><p>Blinky turned, some of his vigor coming back, "This is the Hero's Forge."</p><p> </p><p>Pretentious. Though it was rich coming from him. He did have an unfortunate level of self awareness at times.</p><p> </p><p>As they pressed forward, strolling along the towering stone path, Tobias leaned near the edge, as if trying to catch a glimpse of something moving in the dark. Jim pretended to push him, scaring the boy into almost tottering over the precipice.</p><p> </p><p>"Mr. Lake!" He warned, cutting him a severe look.</p><p> </p><p>Jim immediately straightened, looking properly shamed. Pulling away from his steaming friend, he awkwardly chuckled an apology. Toby glared, stepping away from the edge, huffing as he shook his head in disappointment. Without further incident, they crossed into the open arena with Jim awkwardly trailing behind. Until the full majesty started to hit them, the two humans silenced with open wonder.</p><p> </p><p>"Magnifico!" Jim breathed, spinning to absorb it all, "But what are <i>those</i>?"</p><p> </p><p>His attention was directed towards the mildly creepy statues, posed in various ways, a heroic last stand for all eternity. Really, it was almost sickening. Though Unkar’s statue was, at the very least, somewhat humorous to look at. That had been a swift night.</p><p> </p><p>“Trollhunters.” AAARRRGGHH rumbled, much to Tobias’ and Jim’s dismay.</p><p> </p><p>“You mean those…” Strickler trailed off, participating in the vaguest way.</p><p> </p><p>“Your predecessors, Master Walter,” Blinky confirmed, “a line of heroism reaching back to the age of Merlin,” Of course, who could forget the man that brought this entire mess on. “This is the place of the final repose for Kanjigar the Courageous. One day there will be a statue of you here, Master Walter.” </p><p> </p><p>Strickler shot him a dark look. </p><p> </p><p>“One day very far off in the future, of course,” Blinky quickly corrected.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, about that,” Tobias tilted his head, raising his hand, “there’s just one thing I’m not getting.”</p><p> </p><p>“Just one?” Jim muttered, arms crossed tightly, curling in on himself.</p><p> </p><p>“You guys are Trolls, right?” Tobias waved a hand, ignoring Jim, “So “Trollhunter” sounds a bit like you hunt yourselves, you know?”</p><p> </p><p>“Hunt bad Trolls,” AAARRRGGHH said.</p><p> </p><p>“As well as goblins, gruesomes, and the occasional rogue Gnome,” Blinky added on, “But, uh, the most pressing concern is indeed Gumm-Gumms.”</p><p> </p><p>“Not exactly the most terrifying name,” Jim commented.</p><p> </p><p>“In Trollish, “Gumm-Gumm” means bringer of horrible, slow, painful, and thoroughly calculated death.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh. That’s just delightful," Jim said, throwing his hands up.</p><p> </p><p>“But do not be too concerned, Master Walter,” Blinky cheerily spoke, “The Gumm-Gumms were exiled to the Darklands centuries ago. One one roams free.”</p><p> </p><p>“And wants to kill you,” AAARRRGGHH pointed at him.</p><p> </p><p>Well, that little dynamic certainly was <i>delightful</i>, but it didn’t tell him anything he didn’t already know. Bular was always out to kill him.</p><p> </p><p>“Wait, <i>Bular</i> is one of the unspeakably evil Trolls?” Tobias said, shock rippling on his features.</p><p> </p><p>Jim groaned. “Of course he is.”</p><p> </p><p>“Indeed. His father and the rest of their number remained exiled to the Darklands, but they have been trying to escape for centuries,” And they were getting closer day by day, Strickler silently added. “Hence the need to begin Master Walter’s training now,” Throughout his speech, Blinky had been crossing over the open area to a small gate, where a round stone button jutted out from the wall. Standing next to it, Blinky turned his head back, examining them thoughtfully. “Step back, please.”</p><p> </p><p>“Wait!” Jim protested, “Mr. Strickler’s still hurt!”</p><p> </p><p>“So he is. But his enemies won’t show mercy because of it, and that lesson needs to be learned as soon as possible,” Blinky blankly replied.</p><p> </p><p>Well, he wasn’t wrong. It might have been the first useful piece of advice the self proclaimed “trainer” had given.</p><p> </p><p>“Now, step back a little further, Tobias,” Blinky ordered, watching the redhead closely, who shuffled back at a minimal pace, “Oh, very well.”</p><p> </p><p>With that, Blinky pressed the button and all hell broke loose. From the ceiling, the walls, the <i>floor</i>, giant blades came swinging out. One jutted out right in front, narrowly missing them as the group frantically scattered in opposite directions.</p><p> </p><p>"There's a big blade!" Tobias shrieked as Jim tucked and rolled.</p><p> </p><p>Strickler barely kept out of range, hopping with barely smothered winces as the gargantuan weapons shot up in a rapid pattern. The air changed behind him and he dropped down the ground, the <i>shink</i> of the axe swinging above cause enough to shoot a glare at Blinky.</p><p> </p><p>Jim, the quick little prat, had gotten far enough to press against the wall, almost fully removed from the chaos. Tobias screeched as a swinging blade chased him to the same position.</p><p> </p><p>"Turn it off!" Strickler ordered sharply between huffing breaths as he jumped over a rising blade, "This isn't working!"</p><p> </p><p>"But you have such excellent reflexes, Master Walter!"</p><p> </p><p>"It's not <i>mine</i> I'm worried about!" He hissed in reply, narrowly dodging a swipe from his right.</p><p> </p><p>Blinky opened his mouth to protest, much to Strickler's continued disappointment.</p><p> </p><p>"Blinkous Galadrigal!" Something called out over the cacophony of noise.</p><p> </p><p>Blinky scrambled to press the button, shutting down the impromptu deadly training session. Strickler heaved an uneasy sigh, warily watching the various components sink back into the ground and wall. At least one question of his had been answered, he bitterly thought. It seemed Blinky really was related to Dictatious.</p><p> </p><p>"Blinkous Galadrigal!" The voice continued with an unfettered disappointment. </p><p> </p><p>Turning, Strickler was finally able to put a face to the person who'd so graciously interrupted. Tall, but not lumbering, the pale orange Troll took measured steps with each <i>thump</i> of his staff, crafted from the dizzying warmth of the Heartstone. He loomed, a weary presence about him that was only emphasized by the pure white hair streaming down his face and back, milky eyes judging them with equal scorn. Vendel, the cantankerous leader of Trollmarket.</p><p> </p><p>"<i>That's</i> your name?" Jim muttered to Blinky.</p><p> </p><p>"Horrible, I know," Blinky shuddered.</p><p> </p><p>He had yet to realize the true extent of those words. He certainly wouldn't be touting it if he knew just what his relative had done to sully their shared name.</p><p> </p><p>Vendel marched right into the Hero's Forge, set on a single-minded path. </p><p> </p><p>"I wish to meet the fleshbag supposedly chosen by the amulet," He commanded with an underlying disbelief, almost amused in an odd way. The Troll closed on on Tobias, leaning in, "I am Vendel, son of Rundle, son of Kilfred."</p><p> </p><p>"Uh, Toby, son of Ralph," He uneasily introduced himself to the overtly curious elder, "I live with my Nana."</p><p> </p><p>Without any provocation, Vendel grabbed at Tobias' arm, lifting him off the ground as he poked and prodded, inspecting him.</p><p> </p><p>"Produce the amulet, Trollhunter."</p><p> </p><p>Vendel managed to pull the phone away from him, inspecting it briefly before the pressure of his inhuman hands shattered it entirely. Strickler would not miss it.</p><p> </p><p>"Oh no!" Tobias gasped, almost falling to his knees at the sight, "My phone!"</p><p> </p><p>Strickler stood to his full height, shifting his weight to his good leg, the armor creaking with it. How Vendel had missed the shining being encased in magic was beyond him.</p><p> </p><p>"I believe you're looking for me," He called out, unamused. </p><p> </p><p>Immediately, the old Troll huffed, leaving the whimpering human in his wake. As he marched over, AAARRRGGHH stepped up next to him, shoving an enlarged finger at his chest.</p><p> </p><p>"Amulet chose." He quickly informed </p><p> </p><p>Vendel cranes his head, leaning down to inspect the glow nonetheless. "Hmm… so Draal tells me," He scoffed, pulling back, "Ridiculous! However, the amulet had been known to make ill-fated choices, as <i>you</i> know better than most." Vendel pointedly looked at Blinky.</p><p> </p><p>Blinky didn't meet his accusatory gaze, looking rather shamed, and almost downright upset at the comment.</p><p> </p><p>"What's that mean?" Jim asked.</p><p> </p><p>Vendel's focus snapped to him for the first time, sharply examining him with a brutal intensity.</p><p> </p><p>"Blinky trained Trollhunter before. Unkar the Unfortunate." AAARRRGGHH answered, pointing to a statue cowering in fear.</p><p> </p><p>Strickler marveled at it, smothering down the dark laugh that threatened to burst from him. The edges of his mouth twitched up despite his best efforts. Unkar had been the easiest mark of them all. Had Bular not dropped the amulet in a nearby river as he tore him apart then it might have very well been theirs that night. Though, thinking as he looked down at the spotless metal covering his body, it might not have changed much in the long run.</p><p> </p><p>"Why is he unfortunate?" Jim uneasily pressed.</p><p> </p><p>"First night out, torn."</p><p> </p><p>"Like, conflicted?" Jim questioned.</p><p> </p><p>The innocence of youth. How delightfully ignorant. </p><p> </p><p>"No," AAARRRGGHH pushed his fists together, twisting them apart as he specified, "Limb from limb."</p><p> </p><p>Ah. Vivid. Jim certainly agreed as he shot Strickler a very horrified look, great concern pooling behind his eyes. How odd.</p><p> </p><p>A crack sounded throughout the area, and with only that warning, Unkar's arm crashed next to Tobias, who yelped as he jumped to the side.</p><p> </p><p>"If the amulet chose true," Vendel continued, ignoring the shattered arm, "the Soothscryer will reveal it."</p><p> </p><p>Oh, now <i>that</i> was worrying. Rumors of it had existed, a strange thing that would reveal one's true nature through a simple test. Strickler was very nervous about it for a good reason.</p><p> </p><p>"Please!" Blinky begged, reaching out a hand, "Master Walter hasn't had even an hour's training!"</p><p> </p><p>Vendel's face scrunched as he pointed down to a carved in set of footprints, "Mm-<i>mmm</i>."</p><p> </p><p>Blinky, with great hesitance, stepped out of the way. Strickler swallowed, taking a tentative step forward. Even if he ran, he wouldn't make it far. He was surrounded, injured in enemy territory. He needed to blend, however dangerous. Besides, wasn't this only supposed to make sure the amulet had actually chosen him?</p><p> </p><p>Taking his place as Vendel watched on with unchanging disappointment, the light from armor bled into the ground, dinging as the carvings lit up in red. The floor split, stone scraping as a great turning statue rapidly ascended through the opening. It stopped, leaving an open mouth that grew wider as spikes swirled endlessly inside of it.</p><p> </p><p>"Behold, the Soothscryer! It will judge your true spirit. Insert your right hand, Trollhunter."</p><p> </p><p>Oh, there was no bloody way! He glared at Vendel's merciless face, set in its ancient apathy.</p><p> </p><p>"And what happens if I don't?"</p><p> </p><p>Vendel leaned closer, stone mouth curling into a mocking grin, "Then we let Draal have his way."</p><p> </p><p>Right. Of course. Why wouldn't anyone listen to a scorned child predisposed to violence and anger in all their gory forms?</p><p> </p><p>He grit his teeth, "Will all my limbs remain attached?"</p><p> </p><p>"That is part of the test."</p><p> </p><p>Strickler glared one last time, cursing every one of Vendel's ancestors, as he took a step forward. The mouth was well out of reach but refusing to look foolish in front of someone silently rooting for his failure, stretched out his hand. With a flash, Daylight settled into his palm.</p><p> </p><p>With a swing—envisioning the goat-like elder in the midst of his arc—he stuck it into the ground, satisfied as stone cracked and splintered from the impact. Without any glances to the scene behind him, most of the group most definitely looking on with a mix of worry and pity, he carefully climbed onto the stand the sword created. </p><p> </p><p>Balancing despite the sharp pain in his ankle, Strickler stared at the taunting red maw of the machine. It rapidly opened and shut its mouth, a crude imitation of chewing. Was he really about to risk his hand—<i>his hand</i>—for a cover? Well, he assured himself, at least if it got torn off then they would assume he simply was an "ill-fated" choice. Only he would know the true meaning of it. The other option was most likely death at Draal's hands, and he refused to be taken down by Nomura's ex of all people.</p><p> </p><p>With that dark thought pressing on his mind, he rolled back his shoulders—and with only minor hesitation—stuck his hand into the waiting crimson throat.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So let's address some of the changes! Jim and Toby are less hesitant to join because it isn't solely Jim's responsibility this time around. Jim didn't think he was worthy, but he agreed eventually because of his sense of duty. But now that someone he cares about is in this position, in direct danger to protect him, he has absolutely no qualms about dropping everything to help. Especially since he's still looking for adventure at this point in time. Unhealthy, sure, but in character. Toby just straight up thinks it's cool. Strickler is NOT amused however.</p><p>Now, Draal... I love him, personally, he really competes for the #1 spot for fave character in this series, but Strickler would fucking <i>hate</i> him. Mostly because all he sees is a Bular substitute and doesn't hesitate enacting his shitty revenge fantasies. But have no worries, Jim will get his basement big brother. As for Blinky's little speech about him, I personally love the idea that he and AAARRRGGHH were like glorified babysitters with him. This doesn't fit into the canon timeline, I know, but I'm definitely changing elements of it to fit the story better and the characters. Draal gives me barely past teenage years vibes, therefore he'd only be four or five centuries old, and NOT old enough to be there for the Battle of Killahead bridge. The canon timeline is wacky anyways and I just like this better.</p><p>Anyways, until next time. I hope you enjoyed!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. I Found a Crown to Counterfeit</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The aftermath of the Soothscryer.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Holy shit, I'm so sorry this took so long, but new semester and new medication kinda distracted me, still, am I glad to have finished this! Anyways, my Tumblr is @Innogens-breadsticks and I hope you all enjoy.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The mouth of the Soothscryer remained clamped on his hand, stone crushing his wrist. He exhaled through grit teeth, refusing to do more than wince as he waited. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>It <i>hurt</i>. He couldn't move his fingers, everything smothered between rock, blood pooling into pinpoints of heat at the very tips. He waited for it to get worse; for bone to shatter, for muscle and sinew to be torn apart.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Rationally, he wondered if it was more likely to be crushed or completely removed. How he dealt with it afterwards would be dependent on what injury it was.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>There was an imperceptible shift down as gears spun and ancient machinery clanked. Closing his eyes, he waited for the inevitable roar of ancient range, their timeless grudge spilling yet more of his kind's blood.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The Soothscryer's mouth opened, and in his surprise, he stumbled back. Knocked off balance, he fell from the stand he'd made and onto the floor, the impact stinging his backside as his intact hand flew in front of his face.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It wasn't hurt! Well, mostly—marks from it's stone teeth had dug deep enough to almost draw blood—still, it was more than he expected. The open-mouthed awe was lost to the relieved sighs of his self-appointed team.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"I'm—I'm alright," He breathed, still half disbelieving it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Vendel sidestepped him, ignoring his presence almost entirely, staring into the open mouth of the Soothscryer with an indiscernible glare. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Well, what is it?" Tobias brashly demanded.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Vendel deigned to look at him with a bleak annoyance, barely reserved scorn staining his almost regal appearance.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Hmm, inconclusive," Vendel muttered, almost lost.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Inconclusive?" He parroted, looking at Strickler with a mutual horror. "Uh, I don't think he wants to do that again."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"And that…" Strickler's mouth went dry, trying to continue as he looked at his attached hand with a belated sense of wonder. "...that means what, exactly?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"It means, <i>Trollhunter</i>," Somehow, Vendel spit the title out with more derision than any Changeling had ever managed. "that there's never been a human to bear the mantle before. The Soothscryer needs more time to render it's judgement. Let us all hope you live long enough to see it."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Just like that—like he hadn't been so close to finding out the enemy was right under his gargantuan nose—Vendel turned and lumbered away, leaving a wash of confusion in his wake. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Numbly, Strickler slowly turned to the Soothscryer, rubbing his slightly damaged wrist. It's accusing stone eyes remained fixated on him. He'd broken it, somehow. That was the only explanation that made a single modicum of sense. It was supposed to decide his <i>true nature</i>, and his true nature was in and of itself, abominable. Damnable some would say, though he didn't put too much stock in religious constructions.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The dark magic that kept him knitted together <i>must</i> have broken it. Otherwise, why would it have left him whole? There was no other logical answer.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Master Walter," Blinky started from behind him. "I believe we were in the midst of training?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Strickler, still silent and reeling from the incident, nodded as he rose to shaky feet. Swaying as the armor pulsed with renewed vigor, he still couldn't quite turn away from the stone machine.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Perhaps…" He licked his lips, choking on easy words. "Perhaps it's best if we told off on training for now."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He expected an immediate contradiction. He could hear Blinky suck in a breath, and he winced in preparation for the obvious rant to follow.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"He's right," Jim quickly cut him off. "I mean, today's been… <i>a lot</i>, and maybe we should, like, talk before we start up the death machine again?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Talk? What about?" Blinky earnestly questioned, entirely ignorant to the atmosphere.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Strickler, finally gathering the scraps of his composure together, turned away from the Soothscryer to face the group.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Jim is correct." He tilted his head in a brief moment of acknowledgement. "I believe we have the matter of Bular to discuss."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Blinky didn't meet his eyes, choosing instead to look only at AAARRRGGHH. It was a desperate sort of assurance, an incomprehensible need for support. Strickler blinked, and in the midst of his numb haze, he filed it away. It could be useful, he reasoned.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Oh, Bular is… he's a rather difficult opponent, Master Walter," Blinky said as he finally looked back, still not quite meeting Strickler's eyes.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"I'm already well aware." Strickler narrowed his eyes. "Or were my injuries not enough?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Right, my apologies." Blinky coughed into a closed first, eyes still darting to his gargantuan friend.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"As worried as I am for <i>my</i> safety—" Strickler gestured vaguely to himself. "—I believe the safety of my students takes precedence."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He knew how to handle himself, how to throw Bular off his, ah, scent. The only wrench in his plan were the unforeseen variables. All he needed was their cooperation, however.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Yeah, I would like to not be eaten tonight, or, uh, <i>ever</i>, really." Tobias shrugged, too tense for the casual tone he tried to pull on.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Yeah, I second that." Jim agreed, shuddering. "I don't think we'll be much help until we can figure something out."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"That discussion will be tabled until later," Strickler warned. "I'm still not on board with needlessly endangering young lives."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Well, too bad." Jim crossed his arms. "It's not up to you."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Strickler heaved a weary, broken sigh. "I'm well aware."</p>
<hr/>
<p>Bular had left, there was no sign of the brute for miles. He'd given up for now, though he'd be back at some point. He was probably off licking his wounds. The prince would be calling him within the hour, either to rage at or to come up with some new scheme. A mix of both, perhaps.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"It's clear," He muttered to the waiting doorway.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Creeping, Jim and Tobias cautiously peeked out, examining the area with a due amount of unease. He'd be insulted if he didn't understand the feeling himself.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It had taken another hour for their discussion to reach any sort of progress. No matter what he said, the two would not give up their naive and reckless effort to help. They wanted training. They wanted to be <i>heroes</i>.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They could not be heroes if they were dead.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>An extraordinarily blunt, if not accurate, statement about his thoughts. They'd been silent afterwards. Though they were still resolute, utterly refusing to back down. It would've been impressive had it not so greatly annoyed him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>No solution had been come to in regards to Bular. They'd argued in circles, over and over again. <i>No, they can't stay in Trollmarket indefinitely, Blinky, they have guardians who will be concerned and also school</i>; and <i>No! We are not going to lay traps all across Arcadia, that would be a waste of resources and time, and what happens when an innocent person gets caught in one? Oh, didn't think about that, huh?</i>; and <i>I can't go out and kill him right now! Or have you missed my limping and overall lack of training?</i>.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Eventually, there was only one solution that didn't make him want to tear his hair out. They could continue going to school, where Strickler would be able to make sure nothing happened, he recommended finding an after school activity to extend their time there. They begrudgingly agreed. They could go home, where certain warding measures were to be put in place—he'd made a show of asking Blinky about it, just so the knowledge wouldn't have seemed so out of place—and whenever possible, go to Trollmarket, where they could be indisputably safe. Whether to sleep or train or just to do homework, Trollmarket was to become their new safe haven.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He wasn't a particular fan of it, but it was a necessity. And from the shadows, he'd use his influence to try and stave off Bular's inevitable second attempt. It was risky and admittedly poorly thought out, but it was all they realistically had. Was this going to set the precedent for the rest of his life?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Shaking away all thoughts, he quickly led the boys on the quickest path to his car, no Bular—or any of his minions—in sight. Already, he was anticipating the rather angry call. His eardrums would not come out unscathed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Are you sure it's this way, Mr. Strickler?" Tobias' pitchy voice cut through his pressing considerations.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Hmm? Oh, yes," He muttered distantly, craning his head in a constant rotation.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Well, if you say so…" The boy trailed off, wavering belief in his tone.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He could hear the smack as Jim silently reprimanded his friend despite his back being turned to them.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Don't be rude!" Jim murmured under his breath. "He doesn't have to drive us home!"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Like hell he doesn't!" Tobias replied, certain of his supposedly inaudible volume. "As cool as all this is, Jimbo, it's kind of his fault we're here in the first place!"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"<i>Toby</i>!" Jim hissed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"What? Are you gonna tell me that I'm <i>wrong</i>? Are you really gonna look me in the eyes and say those words? <i>Are</i> you?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Ugh! You're being impossible," Jim groaned.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Strickler continued on, content enough to lead them up the side of the canal as they bickered amongst themselves. Truthfully, he wasn't particularly offended by Tobias' thoughts, it was a reasonable enough conclusion after all. Logic was always much more admirable than blinding sentimentality.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Only turning to briefly help the boys up the steeper part of the cement trench, Strickler kept forward on his path, no time to waste. They trailed behind him the entire way, still frantically whispering with each other.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They'd always been a pair, those two. Inseparable comrades in a capricious world that had already marred their budding lives. They had so little, and so they'd clung to each other, desperate for even the smallest inkling of stability. Perhaps it was nostalgia that endeared them to him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The early years he'd spent in the Darklands had faded with time and effort, but it could never be completely scrubbed from his mind. As much as he ignored the buffering reels of memory that spun themselves into relevance with any opportunity, they were still seared into his ancient bones with a violent tenacity. It was endless, the fear, the pain, the vague notion of comfort he had when he clung to his fellow whelps. It was all melded together. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Shaking his head, he glared into the night, willing away the uneasy intrusion. Those thoughts were best left for lonesome nights when it was safest to examine them, when no one was around to view the gaps in his composure.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"This way." He waved them along as he spotted a familiar path in the woods. "Come along now, there's no time to waste."</p>
<hr/>
<p>The hum of Strickler's ancient engine wasn't nearly enough to fill the building silence. Jim glanced out of the corner of his eye, briefly studying his teacher's profile, streetlights flashing over his strong features. Every lined inch was set with a grim determination, something that fit him surprisingly well.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Toby shifted in the seat behind him. Despite having the whole back row to himself, his friend still wasn't comfortable. The holes being bored into the back of his head gave it away as well.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Still, Jim didn't want to give in just yet, so his gaze was being resolutely set outside the windshield. The streets were empty, the suburban corners deceptively peaceful as nothing moved in the dim reflections of the bolted lights. But looks meant nothing. The surface was still only to hide the swirling rot beneath. Nothing that he'd depended on was true.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Magic was real, and so were monsters. Of course, it meant heroes had to be as well. There was darkness with light, a balance to be kept in check. As cheesy a concept as it was, he was relieved in its simplistic notion. At least there were people to fight the inhuman beings lurking out of sight, people to keep him safe.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>People that also died without recognition. Like Kanjigar.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jim swallowed. Strickler had been his teacher since he was a Freshman, it wasn't like Arcadia Oaks had a surplus of teachers. But their somewhat pretentious, yet genuine, history teacher had been a decades old staple of the community. Perhaps he was old and too invested in ancient European history and made stupid puns, but he also <i>cared</i> and to Jim that was almost revolutionary. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>No one cared about him. Except for his mom and Toby. His dad had left on his fucking <i>birthday</i> of all days, and his grandparents had died when he was a toddler. It was just his mom and Toby for years, and yeah, his mom was busy and Toby and him got bullied more often than not, but they were all he had and that was enough. But Strickler had shown genuine investment in his growth, and that had been <i>weird</i> at first, but his teacher was proud of him for trying, no matter if he succeeded or failed. And Jim wanted that, despite his reservations.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>So maybe he was more than a little attached. He never lied when he said he didn’t care about his father, the bastard could stay away for the rest of his life and Jim would throw a party in celebration. But there was always that notion of a <i>dad</i>, someone who guided him, someone who cared, someone who <i>stayed</i>. He couldn’t care less about the man who abandoned them, but sometimes there was an empty, looming silhouette with the vague shape of a person. He didn’t need another parent, his mom was more than enough, but… sometimes he wondered. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He’d lost more than enough people, and he refused to lose any more. That was it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Alright, boys, this is your stop.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Strickler’s voice cut through his thoughts as Jim whipped his head to the side. The car was slowing to a rocking stop, and with a muted surprise he noticed that the houses surrounding them were incredibly familiar. It was his street, each pothole and cracked sidewalk forming the blueprint of his childhood. And it had all been stained with the presence of one monster.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“So it is,” Toby nervously laughed, craning his head at the window.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Right. The goblins had come after <i>him</i>, he was probably scared to go back. But Toby wouldn’t leave his Nana, no matter how terrified he was.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I could stay over tonight, I’m sure my mom wouldn’t mind,” Jim offered, turning back to catch Toby’s flicker of fear.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Nah, I’m good, Jimbo.” Toby waved him off, forced nonchalance in his tone as his gaze stuck briefly on their self appointed driver. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>As much as Toby made fun of him for it, even he wanted to impress their teacher sometimes. If Strickler knew how many students he had inadvertently caused to seek his approval... </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“If you’re sure, Tobes,” Jim said, resigned nonetheless. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Totally. See you tomorrow.” Toby awkwardly waved as he struggled to open the door, eventually it popped open under his effort and he came fumbling out.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jim chuckled at the sight, waving his friend goodbye as the boy dusted himself off and began shambling over to his own house. Slowly, he lowered his hand, staring down at his lap with a vague focus.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He almost died. He <i>would</i> have died, had it not been for his overly concerned teacher. His life, everything he was, would have been <i>over</i>. And that was… difficult to acknowledge.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Jim… are you alright?” Strickler asked, tilting his head with a slightly uncomfortable lilt to his voice.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh, uh, yeah, totally. I’m absolutely fine,” Jim muttered, jumping in his seat, scrambling for the door handle. “Uh, okay, see you tomorrow, Mr. Strickler—”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Jim…” Strickler started, still hesitant. “It’s alright if you’re a bit frightened by all this, I know I am—”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Seriously! I’m okay!” Jim put up his hand. “You don’t have to say anything, I just… I think I need a good night’s sleep, you know? Like you said this morning, I need to take care of myself.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Strickler backed down, perhaps a tad unwillingly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m still expecting a call from your mother, so you’re not quite off the hook.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jim groaned. “Seriously?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Strickler chuckled lightly. “If I was already concerned about how much you overworked yourself before, then I’m about to go off the rails now. If you’re serious about helping out, then you need to make sure your regular life is taken care of.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Right,” Jim grumbled, slumping over. Reaching over, he grabbed the door handle and pushed open the car door. “Um, then, see you tomorrow, Mr. Strickler.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Of course.” Strickler nodded. “And if anything happens, anything at all—”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’ll call you,” Jim agreed, stepping out.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Alright then.” Strickler sighed. “Goodnight, Mr. Lake.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Night, Mr. Strickler.” Jim shut the door, careful not to slam it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Turning back to wave, he started on the path to his house. The porchlights were on and the kitchen buzzed with activity, visible even from the outside. His mom must have come home early, odd since she was scheduled until midnight. He inwardly moaned. She would want to know where he’d been. Maybe he could tell her an edited version of the truth and say he and Toby had gotten cornered by a bunch of feral cats. Sure, she’d want to call animal control, but it was the most reasonable explanation for his scratches and disappearance. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>A rumble came from behind him, Strickler’s car choking on its own exhaust as it came to life once again. School was going to be… interesting, for lack of a better word. But maybe this would be the push that got Strickler to stop assigning so many chapters. Nah, Jim thought, definitely not. The man valued his Michaelson to an unhealthy extent. Still, if anyone had to be protecting him, he was almost relieved it was Strickler. He knew his teacher would give it his all.</p>
<hr/>
<p>Slamming his apartment door with a misdirected wrath, Strickler marched over to his stiff sofa and sunk down into the unrelenting cushions.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><i>Fuck</i>. He was <i>screwed</i>, there was little other way to put it. Now he had to wrangle two teenagers as he orchestrated Trollmarket’s downfall, all because of Bular’s recklessness, most likely prompted by Nomura. Was there anything of his <i>not</i> falling apart? His phone dinged and lit up with a notification.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><i>Otto</i>: <b>Es ist geschafft, mein lieber Freund.</b></p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ah. So Otto had finally obtained the Eyestone. At the very least the bridge was well on its way to being completed, and the Janus Order had been smoothly running itself without his interference. Though he expected that competence to soon hit an end.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The amulet hummed in his pocket, the light growing brighter. Of course it was tuned to <i>emotion</i>, magic could never be easy, could it? Emboldened by his own indignance and exhaustion, he cupped his hand around it and pulled it from his pocket. Fitting snugly in his palm, he allowed it to rest in front of his face, tilting his head to accommodate his curiosity.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Having fun, are you?" He muttered, accusation in his tired glare.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was foolish, talking to an inanimate object. But magic shaped even the coldest things with sparks of personality. Even if it wasn't alive, it could still react to his words. And it did, judging by the brief <i>ping</i> it gave in response.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He scoffed, rolling his eyes. Of course it delighted in his misery, it was Merlin's crowning achievement, his magnum opus. There was no reason it wouldn't want to make things difficult for Changelings.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"You know," He started, a sigh in his voice. "things were moving smoothly before <i>you</i> showed up. Granted, you were always going to be a wrench in our plans, but this really exceeds all expectations. You couldn't have chosen another troll—or even a <i>human</i>—as your little champion of the masses? I'm not good, I have no interest in keeping Trollmarket or the surface world safe, I'm everything you work to slay and beat back, so <i>why</i>?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The amulet didn't grace him with an answer, remaining uncharacteristically silent. Rage sparked and flared, feasting on the endless exhaustion and frustration he had stored inside him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Oh? Have you nothing to say for yourself? Finally ready to let me have some input about my own fate?" He sneered, cocking his eyebrow. "As difficult as you've made it, I'm no less resolved than before. Good and evil have no place in my concerns, my only goal is survival—for me and all my <i>kind</i>, as difficult as they are. And you and your allies have always resented that, for a multitude of reasons. How many Changelings have perished under your steady blade, for the crime of living? Though, that entails a different set of requirements than most. Not everyone has to work for a vicious, demented war lord after all, not everyone has to kill and fight and scheme in return for being left breathing." Strickler tilted his head, lifting the amulet up further, pinching it between two fingers. "Our salvation lies with our master, as cruel as he may be, at least he's done more for us than you lot would even briefly consider. You've made a mistake, hoping someone who has had allies gutted and decapitated by your champions would be at all interested in your crusade."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The amulet remained still and quiet. A hollow facsimile of its normal state; in a way, it seemed almost dead.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Hmm? Nothing new to add? No defense? No accusations or excuses for your little defenders of righteousness?" He let out a darkly unsteady laugh. "I suppose they don't need one, considering my, ah, <i>status</i> according to Trollmarket. I don't mean to sound bitter, really, it's almost laughably predictable at this point. We don't matter to anyone but ourselves, but that's just fine. Because no one else matters to us either." He sighed, dropping his hand to his lap and leaning back. "And that will, of course, be their downfall. For as much as they hate us for doing what we must to live, we hate them for allowing it to happen, for remaining hypocritical despite their claims to righteous justice."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Finally, he laughed; loud and bitter and acrid, forced and torn from deep in his chest. He rarely indulged in such bitterness, in such melancholy and childish thoughts. It was an old smoldering anger, echoed similarly in the hollow wastelands where Changeling hearts used to reside.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>But it felt <i>good</i>, having something to  berate for his standing, for the difficulties of his life. A scapegoat always improved such helpless situations, and Merlin's Amulet would have to stand in place of his grander oppressors.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Still," He muttered as the raucous sound died out on his barren walls. "how good will it feel, when I finally bring back my dark master, with <i>your</i> help. I will raze Trollmarket down to bloody, broken bones and I will do it wielding the power that has so brazenly fought against that end. If that isn't dramatic irony, then I don't know what is."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The amulet sat still, the metal a searing cold against his beating palms, as if trying to sap some of his own vitality for itself. Perhaps it did work like that, Strickler wouldn't put it past Merlin. The wizard was extraordinarily powerful but capricious at best. All magicians were at heart.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>With one more long, scrutinizing glance at the quiet weapon, Strickler finally shrugged and let his hand fall back into his jacket pocket, tucking it away from the rest of the world. Still burning through layers of fabric, it lay dormant, a heavy burden on his body and soul—or lack thereof.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He pressed against the couch, letting his head fall back as he stared blankly at the ceiling. Bular hadn't called yet or sent any sort of proxy, a worrying sign. Nomura hadn't tried to send anything either, odd considering she was the one who'd love to shove her new standing in his face. They either suspected his involvement or wanted an excuse to yell at him, though he guessed it was the latter.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Exhaling through his nose, tracing the plastered ridges of his ceiling with unwavering emerald, he closed his eyes slowly. Tomorrow would be another long, arduous day. Hopefully, he could make it through without any large surprises. Though expressing that out loud was daring the universe to prove him wrong, and he wasn't near confident enough for that challenge.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Woop, this is a lot less event heavy than the previous chapters but it was more of a break I guess. The chapter title is from Original Spin by Mother Mother, pretty much all the titles are lyrics from that band, I'm maybe a little obsessed. Anyways the next chapter hopefully won't take as long but thank you all for sticking out for SO LONG!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. The Keenest Sorrows of Self Recognition</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jim and Toby figure out how to live life with their new knowledge and Strickler deals with Otto's impending visit</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Okay, this is less plot and more interaction oriented to set up stuff, so it's a little boring, I apologize. Anyways, my Tumblr is @innogens-breadsticks, and that's really it. Enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“And you <i>lost</i> him?”</p><p>“<i>Bular</i> lost him, you dolt!”</p><p>“And you were supposed to be watching over him, to make sure he didn’t do anything idiotic—<i>like going after human children</i>!”</p><p>“Those <i>children</i>,” Nomura repeated, voice mocking through the miniscule speaker of the phone. “were the only other suspects we had. Or did you forget, Stricklander?”</p><p>“I was never so foolish as to suspect them in the first place,” He retorted, half-snarling.</p><p>“Well, whoop-di-fucking-do,” Nomura hissed. “you were right. The Trollhunter isn’t one of your little fleshbag students.”</p><p>“<i>Really</i>?’</p><p>“Shut it,” she swiftly ordered. “They’re not exactly out of the woods yet.”</p><p>“How so?” Strickler grit his teeth, trying to brace for the inevitable.</p><p>“Were you paying any attention?” His subordinate groaned. “The Trollhunter went out of his way to rescue them, and he took them into Trollmarket. They obviously mean something to him, if we play our cards right, we have the perfect bait.”</p><p>Strickler hated how right she was. </p><p>“How can you be sure he’d come back for them again?” he asked. “It’d make more sense to cut his losses now.”</p><p>“It would. But Trollhunters are never the reasonable type. They care so much about good and evil, all that moral conundrum shit. Who’s to say this one’s any different?”</p><p>Strickler bit down the retort that would’ve ended her smug assurance and doomed him in the same breath. The satisfaction wouldn’t be as good if he was dead.</p><p>“Perhaps,” Strickler exhaled, begrudgingly allowing her the upperhand. “But we can never be sure. It would be better to wait before trying something so obvious again.”</p><p>“Eh? Are you kidding me? It’s best if we use the boy <i>now</i> before they figure out a way to protect him,” Nomura scoffed. “Or have you forgotten that we’re supposed to be orchestrating the demise of the entire human race?”</p><p>“Of course not!” he hissed into the phone, grip tightening. “But I’m also thinking about how to best keep those plans under wraps, until they’re actually accomplishable.”</p><p>“Well, hasn’t Otto acquired the Eyestone? The final piece of the bridge?”</p><p>“He has. But we need the amulet nonetheless, and being reckless <i>now</i> would only doom us in the end.”</p><p>“You’re paranoid,” Nomura accused.</p><p>“All the smartest people are,” Strickler easily replied. “You and Bular are too similar, too eager to turn to brute force at every inconvenience.”</p><p>“You’re the one who stuck me with him, if anything, this is on <i>you</i>,” Nomura huffed. “Besides, I don’t need any talks about subtlety from someone being trailed by Trollmarket.”</p><p>“I <i>suspected</i> they were trailing me.”</p><p>“No, no, you said you <i>were</i> being trailed, there’s a difference.”</p><p>“Either way,” Strickler grit his teeth. “I’m alright to come back, for now. At the very least, I’ll be able to prevent another disaster, like last night apparently was.”</p><p>“Please, we eliminated a suspect. It was hardly a disaster. Besides, we’ve practically confirmed his humanity, he’s not a Troll—according to Bular, at least.”</p><p>“Oh, and I completely trust his judgement to be sound and unbiased.” Strickler rolled his eyes. “And considering Bular revealed himself to humans—while also letting the Trollhunter get away—then I would call the night an unmitigated disaster.”</p><p>“You and your dramatics,” Nomura sighed. “Whatever, just don’t be surprised when the bossman ends up being extra pissy today.”</p><p>“I supposed I should appreciate the warning, even if it was your lax effort that allowed us to be set back.”</p><p>“Why I even bother trying to be civil with you eludes me, <i>sir</i>.”</p><p>“Likewise,” Strickler muttered, pulling the phone away from his ear as his thumb deftly pressed the ‘End Call’ icon.</p><p>He sighed, leaning against the firm back of the driver’s seat, bringing up a free hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. Having a mental breakdown in the school parking lot in the wee hours of the morning had not been on his to-do list for the day, but apparently it was going to happen regardless. Scanning the area through the pristine windows of his car, the early sun bathed the empty entrance in burnt orange, the school front untouched by the presence of adolescents and exhausted teachers. Good.</p><p>So Bular was convinced that the Trollhunter was a mere human, and as long as the dark prince didn’t start having doubts, then Strickler was safe from accusation for the time being. And the likelihood of Nomura, or any other members of the Janus Order, pondering the possibility of a Changeling Trollhunter was infinitesimal.</p><p>Everything was hanging in a precarious balance, he had all the pieces he needed—as uncooperative as some of them were—and the end goal could be achieved as long as he kept calm. Gunmar needed to return, for the future of all Changelings, and that meant securing both the submission of Trollmarket and the final pieces of the bridge without the attention of either side. </p><p>Bular, no matter what, could never find out. Even if he prostrated himself at the brute’s feet, proving his utter fealty to his father’s cause, the Gumm-Gumm would merely use the amulet as an excuse to devour him entirely. Nevermind the endless benefits of having a devoted ally and a spy all in one, the mere fact that Merlin’s faulty machine had <i>graced</i> him with the mantle of “Hero” was enough to order his death.</p><p>Gunmar’s return had to be secured, even if his son wasn’t the reasonable type. As long as Strickler proved himself invaluable as the Trollhunter, then Gunmar would more than likely be willing to let him live. The Gumm-Gumm king had always had a more refined sense of irony, and having Merlin’s champion as his lap dog would certainly be appealing.</p><p>It would certainly grate on Strickler’s sense of pride, but if one lesson could be learned from being a Changeling, then it was that pride useless, as was honor. That was what set them apart from other Trolls and their petty squabbles, they valued nothing above survival. There was nothing worth dying for, nothing at all.</p><p>Slowly, he dragged his hand down his face, fingertips tracing each subtle frown line and raised ridge under the layers of soft flesh that had been with him for centuries. It felt real, like he really was human down to the most hidden layer of marrow and bone. That was simply the strength of the Pale Lady’s magic.</p><p>He’d rarely been tempted to run away and live life as a human, like some of his brethren had attempted in the past, his will was simply that strong. That, and the Janus Order had always been able to track down and execute each one. You lived for the betterment of the Changeling race or you didn’t live at all.</p><p>Though, the idea of never having to deal with another test paper or one of Bular’s rants ever again… well, there was a certain appeal to it. But he had a job to do, and he would stop at nothing to accomplish it.</p><p>With that resolved, he pulled his keys out of the ignition, shoving them roughly into his coat pocket. He had no time for doubts, for the temptation of regret. That was a luxury he had never been afforded, nor would he fight for it now. The only thing he could do was make the best of what he was given, and with the Pale Lady’s grace, he <i>would</i> twist the situation to his favor.</p>
<hr/><p>“The play?” Toby raised a speculative brow. “Are you sure about that, Jimbo?”</p><p>“Well, Strickler said to find an afterschool activity so we could stick with him, and to be honest, I <i>really</i> don’t wanna test my skills with the chess club.” Jim pulled up his gym sock as he began to lace up his sneakers. “So yeah, the play.”</p><p>“Have you even practiced, like, <i>at all</i>?” Toby questioned, crossing his arms as he waited for his friend. “They have auditions for a reason, theatre actually requires, you know, effort.”</p><p>Jim paused for a moment to look up. “When did you turn into such a snob?”</p><p>“It’s not snobby to recognize that acting takes practice!” Toby glared. “It’d be best to find an easy activity that doesn’t take up that much time. Why don’t we just join the anime club?”</p><p>“And rewatch Naruto filler? You really think that’s a better use of our time?”</p><p>Toby tilted his head up to consider it. “Yeah, good point. Maybe we should just join one of those joke clubs, like the Fishing Club. They never do anything.”</p><p>“They also never meet, which means it would still be weird for us to stay after school until Strickler’s finished. Hence, the school play.”</p><p>“Now we’ve just circled back around to the first argument. How can you even be sure you’ll get a part? Or, you know, <i>me</i>, since I’m also a part of this.”</p><p>“Well, C—Claire said that they don’t have enough boys, so we don’t have to be amazing, just… passable.” Jim shrugged, hunched over his knees as he distracted himself with his already finished laces.</p><p>Toby was silent for a single moment before he broke into a chrome-toothed grin. “Ohohoho, I see what’s going on here. You just wanna look good for your lady love, don’t you?”</p><p>“W—What?! I mean, t—that’s…” Jim stamered, his hands fumbling briefly. “That’s n—not <i>entirely</i> true…”</p><p>“But it’s still a goal of yours?” Toby cocked his eyebrow, basking in Jim’s guilty silence. “Yeah, thought so. You’re not that slick, Jimbo.”</p><p>“It’s not about being slick!” Jim scoffed, pushing off the locker room bench. “It’s about making the best of a bad situation.”</p><p>“I don’t even know how you can worry about this with everything that happened last night. When I woke up this morning I was half-convinced that there were some funky mushrooms on my leftover pizza and that it had all been a very realistic and vividly disturbing hallucination. I’m still trying not to have a complete and utter nervous breakdown about everything, and the only thing keeping me together is the thought that lunch is right after this period.”</p><p>“You have very simple coping mechanisms.” Jim titled his head. “I’m kind of jealous.”</p><p>“Food may be simple, but it is dangerous,” Toby sighed. “The point is that I can’t believe you’re still thinking about Claire when we almost <i>died</i>.”</p><p>“Shut it!” Jim hissed, whipping his head around to see if anyone had heard. Luckily, their conversation had been secluded enough that no one had heard the last bit. Most of the other boys were milling about in their own groups, talking idly.</p><p>“This is the locker room, man, everyone’s just trying to get done as fast as possible. No one cares if you say weird shit.”</p><p>“I’d rather not blow our covers after less than twelve hours!” Jim harshly whispered, still hunching over to hide himself. “I’m pretty sure Strickler would kill us!”</p><p>“Nah, you’re a teacher’s pet. He wouldn’t kill you. Maim you, maybe, but not kill.”</p><p>“Oh, wow, that’s so much better. Thanks, Tobes,” Jim snarked, rolling his eyes. “But seriously, he’s trusting us with this! We can’t let him down.”</p><p>“Didn’t we have to threaten him with the guilt of our deaths before he considered letting us help?” Toby said, putting his hands on his hips.</p><p>“Well. Yeah…” Jim begrudgingly admitted, letting his head droop.</p><p>“The point is that I think he’d actually be happier if we, you know, stayed out of it.” Toby looked away. “Listen, I backed you up yesterday, but I’m gonna be honest because I think our friendship can handle it, but this is <i>terrifying</i>.”</p><p>“I’m not saying that it isn’t!” Jim retorted. “But even if it is, no one deserves to deal with it by themselves.”</p><p>“You know, sometimes you’re so nice that it’s actually insufferable,” Toby sighed. “I mean, if we’re already stuck dealing with this, I guess I can see your point about the play.”</p><p>“Exactly!” Jim eagerly nodded. “So… you gonna try out with me?”</p><p>“That might be asking a little much.” Toby scrunched up his face. “Maybe I can join tech. It’s not too late to sign-up, right?”</p><p>Jim shrugged. “You don’t have to. You could probably hang out in the library for a couple hours if you wanted to. Who knows, maybe it would actually help you do your homework.”</p><p>“Hey! I get my homework done!”</p><p>“But is it done well?” Jim replied, raising an imploring eyebrow.</p><p>“C’s get degrees, Jimbo,” Toby shrugged before craning his head to peak around at the slowly emptying locker room. “I think it’s time to go, unless you want Coach to blow that obnoxious whistle at us.”</p><p>“I’d rather skip that today, thanks.” Jim shuddered, standing up to his full height and dusting off the front of his shorts. “I just want to get the day over with.”</p><p>“Fair enough,” Toby agreed. “But just remember, if you audition, it’s gonna be extra work.”</p><p>“Yeah, yeah, you don’t have to tell me twice.” Jim waved him off. “Besides, it’s not a done deal. I haven’t decided yet.”</p>
<hr/><p>The call came during the middle of his lunch break. He’d been waiting for it for days beforehand, but of course it only came at the most inconvenient time. Otto seemed deadset on making his life more difficult than it had to be. Then again, that was probably no fault of his own, it was merely a trait the gods had decided to disperse across the universe. </p><p>“Guten Tag, Herr Strickler,” Otto cheerily greeted through the warped speaker.</p><p>“Hello, Otto,” Strickler sighed. “Let’s drop the formalities, shall we?”</p><p>“If you insist, mein Freund,” Otto readily agreed. “So, I believe you have already heard of my recent, eh, discovery?”</p><p>“If you mean the Eyestone, then you are about a decade late with it,” Strickler groused.</p><p>“It was in a private collection, you know how hard those are to track. Especially with all those little skirmishes over here in Europe, it all gets jumbled up.”</p><p>“I’ll give you that, but do you at least have it in your possession?”</p><p>“What do you take me for, a fool?” Otto scoffed. “I would not be so brazen as to flaunt myself in the face of the Janus Order if I did not have it.”</p><p>“Hmm, well, I can certainly think of a few times that you’ve not had such care for a job well done in the past.”</p><p>“I was young, we all were at one point,” Otto brushed him off. “Even you have had your fair share of fumbles, Stricklander.”</p><p>“Except my fumbles usually didn’t result in an extra body—or five.”</p><p>“That was <i>one</i> time—” Otto began, voice pitched up a few octaves.</p><p>“But moving on,” Strickler interrupted before a very lengthy and confusing rant could overtake the call. Trying to translate the odd pidgin language that came from Otto when he combined Trollish, English, and German was a rather difficult task. “Were there any complications we should know about?”</p><p>“You mean did I give myself away to any of the local populace?” Otto begrudgingly replied.</p><p>“Well, that would be a rather pressing concern.”</p><p>“To answer your very rude question, I did not. Really, it is almost like you do not find me capable of certain tasks.”</p><p>“Otto, you don’t want me to answer that.”</p><p>“Sehr unhöflich!” Otto sighed dramatically. “But no, our plans remain undetected by both the human and troll populations here in Europe.”</p><p>“Good. Then Trollmarket really has no clue.”</p><p>“Speaking of our dear friends under Arcadia Oaks, is it true that Kanjigar is eh… gone?” </p><p>“Er ist zerbrochener Stein,” Strickler answered smugly. “Sein Körper ist in Stücke gerissen.”</p><p>“Your German is so childlike,” Otto noted with barely suppressed amusement.</p><p>“I’ve not had much use for keeping up with it,” Strickler tersely replied. “Haven’t you heard? It’s a dying language.”</p><p>“Ah, do not insult the messenger. You would not want to embarrass yourself in front of important company, no?”</p><p>“Please, the only person who speaks German in a five-mile radius is the local Spanish teacher, and I doubt we need his good favor to move forward with our plans.”</p><p>“Remind me to not stay in Arcadia Oaks for longer than absolutely necessary. It sounds like a wasteland.”</p><p>“It’s an American town. Isn’t that a requirement?” Strickler snorted.</p><p>“I doubt an Englander such as yourself can really talk about such things.” </p><p>“Ah, my apologies, how can any country ever hold a candle to your precious Deutschland?”</p><p>“You are more irritable than usual,” Otto noted. “Is your high and mighty position more trouble than it is worth?”</p><p>“I’m one more missing persons report away from just letting Bular run wild.”</p><p>“Ack! Spinnst du?” Otto hissed. “That brute is the one thing that could entirely derail the Janus Orders’ plans. Please, keep him on his leash.”</p><p>“You say that, but you have idea how difficult he really is,” Strickler grit his teeth. “Especially with his new discovery that Nomura shares his more forceful views.”</p><p>“That is on you for letting them interact any more than absolutely necessary,” Otto said, utterly unsympathetic. </p><p>“Has anyone ever commented on how annoying you are?” Strickler asked airily.</p><p>“Nur du, Schatzi.” Otto replied saccharinely.</p><p>“Well, then I’m glad to take up that responsibility,” Strickler sighed. “But if that’s all, then everything is going according to schedule.”</p><p>“Except for the amulet,” Otto dutifully reminded him.</p><p>Strickler screwed his eyes shut. “Except for the amulet.”</p><p>“But I have no doubt you will obtain it soon. At the very least by the time I make it stateside,” Otto mused. “Ah, soon these concerns will be mere relics, ancient memories. Is that not grand to consider?”</p><p>“We have to live through it first, unfortunately.”</p><p>“You are always so unpleasant about these occasions. This is history in the making, and you are a teacher, no?”</p><p>“That won’t matter once my dear students are all ground to ashes and dust.”</p><p>“Hmm. Perhaps. But perhaps there will be a new generation of Trolls afterwards. I assume they would be relatively similar to teach.”</p><p>“You are assuming a lot, Otto,” Strickler bit into the phone.</p><p>“Are we not allowed to ponder our own future?”</p><p>“That is a luxury utterly foreign to us,” Strickler bitterly remarked.</p><p>“So cynical,” Otto sighed. “So unglücklich. Even we, in all our sinful existence, are allowed little treats from time to time.”</p><p>“Hmm? Sinful?” Strickler repeated, almost curious. “That’s a rather religious way of describing it.”</p><p>“It’s Europe. Everything is utterly saturated with Christian ideals over here. Though, the concept of one’s very birth being a slight against God is a rather romantic notion, is it not? Curious, certainly.”</p><p>“If you enjoy guilt complexes, then sure,” Strickler commented, tilting his head. “At the very least, it was the driving force behind centuries of divide and war, the reason for kings and colonization. It’s had its place.”</p><p>“You act like this is not fascinating, Stricklander. Is religion not at the core of what you teach?” Otto questioned, vaguely amused. “European history is, again, utterly dependent on the concept.”</p><p>“I’m not going to indulge your need to philosophize tonight,” Strickler muttered, pinching his nose. “I have better things to do with my time then listen to you wax poetic about the nature of human devotion.”</p><p>“I find that hard to believe,” Otto dejectedly mumbled. “It is almost like you are trying to get rid of me.”</p><p>“Otto, dearest old friend, whatever would give you that idea?”</p><p>“You really are no fun,” Otto said, voice no longer distorted by the tinge of false sadness. “I do suppose you have to deal with Bular, so that gives you some excuse to be so, eh, uncharitable.”</p><p>“Good <i>night</i>, Otto,” Strickler warned, pulling the phone away from his ear. “Just be here within a week or so. Everything should be in place by then,”</p><p>“Ja, ja,” Otto agreed. “Tschüss, Stricklander.”</p><p>Strickler’s thumb had already pressed the icon when the last word reverberated through the stale classroom air. Otto had been one of his oldest companions, he’d known him about as long as he’d known Nomura. Still, as with all things, their relationship had only decayed over time, another victim of their separate and opposing ambitions.</p><p>Slowly, and with measured steps, Strickler walked back to his desk, eyes tracing the meticulously organized set-up of pen holders and various textbooks. There was probably something to be analyzed with his tendency towards perfectionism and control, not that he really wanted to dig that deeply. He’d leave needless psychological babble to the longdead musings of Doctor Freud.</p><p>So, he had a week or so to present the amulet to Bular with a feasible excuse. That was doable, he merely had to come up with a short term scapegoat. Then, if he presented the amulet after the completion of the bridge, everyone’s focus would be directed more toward utilizing it than questioning where he’d acquired it. There would still be questions, but as a whole, both the Janus Order and Bular would be more distractible with the much more concrete possibility of their dark lord’s return.</p><p>That made the only uncontrollable variable—</p><p>A knock at the door cut off his thoughts.</p><p>“Come in!” he called out, forcefully righting himself and pushing his chair in.</p><p>The door pushed open and two familiar faces stumbled in, only one of them having the decency to look sheepish for the intrusion.</p><p>“Sorry, Mr. Strickler,” Jim said, scratching the back of his head. “I know it’s your lunch break but we thought you might want us to come in, since, you know…”</p><p>“Magic troll creatures exist and you’re apparently the only one capable of wrangling them in.” Tobias shrugged with forced casualness.</p><p>“Tobes!” Jim hissed, turning to his friend and smacking his shoulder.</p><p>“What? There’s no point in beating around the bush!”</p><p>“What if someone overheard you, huh?” Jim harshly whispered, hiking his shoulders up to his ears as his grip tightened around the strap of his bag. “What then?”</p><p>“Just say it’s something to do with DnD or LARPing,” Tobias muttered, almost indignant. “No one questions you then.”</p><p>“That’s not the point!”</p><p>“Then what <i>is</i>—”</p><p>“Boys!” Strickler reprimanded, sharply glaring at them.</p><p>Jim gulped. “Sorry, sir.”</p><p>“Yeah, sorry, Mr. S.” Toby echoed, sullen.</p><p>“Thank you,” he sighed. “My apologies for snapping like that, but, as you can most likely guess, it’s been stressful lately.”</p><p>Jim awkwardly laughed, not quite meeting his eyes.</p><p>“So, are there any particulars you wish to discuss with me?” Strickler began, slowly leaning into his chair.</p><p>“Well, I mean, I suppose we’re still a little, uh, <i>confused</i> about our next course of action,” Jim slowly replied as he shot glances over towards his friend.</p><p>“By that he means that he wants to join the play, even though he just begged to be part of your little hero campaign,” Tobias blurted, pushing past Jim to point at Strickler.</p><p>Strickler blinked, his head swiveling towards his star student. “Jim?”</p><p>“Well—!” Jim stuttered, eyes widening to the size of saucers. “I—I was considering it! A—As, you know, an after school activity, like you recommended!”</p><p>“When I said that, I assumed you would recognize that I meant a non-time consuming one. A school play is, above all other things, a <i>very</i> time consuming showcase of highschool mediocrity!” Strickler hissed, pinching the bridge of his nose.</p><p>Jim reeled back. “You told me to do it yesterday!”</p><p>“Well, that was before your little appeal in Trollmarket. And I only advised it because it was getting painful trying to watch you hold a conversation with Ms. Nuñez!”</p><p>“Snap. He’s got you there, Jimbo,” Tobias said, pulling up his backpack.</p><p>“Not helping!” Jim hissed, his face going scarlet. “And, for the record, I was just considering it!”</p><p>Strickler put his elbows on the desk, propping up his hands so he could bury his face into them.</p><p>“I think you broke him,” Tobias stage-whispered to his dark-haired friend.</p><p>“Shut <i>up</i>!”</p><p>Strickler, finally pulling some semblance of his collected persona back together, inhaled deeply as he lifted his head.</p><p>“Alright, in lieu of letting you two scramble around to find an after school activity, I’ve come up with a better solution. I can tell the school you’re my new student mentors, that way you have a good excuse for your guardians, and if need be, you can mark the extra time you spend on <i>extracurriculars</i> as community service. For college, of course.”</p><p>“College? You want us to think about college right now?” Jim asked, almost aghast.</p><p>“It’s never too early to start considering your options.”</p><p>“Right now we have bigger problems!”</p><p>“And this is the solution to some of them,” Strickler sighed. “You can stay in my office after school, do your homework, play on your phone, just be in there. Once I finish doing what I need to, then depending on the day, I can take you to Trollmarket, or just drop you off at your respective homes. It’s the best solution I can think of.”</p><p>“Yeah, that’s actually…” Toby blinked. “smart.”</p><p>“I mean, yeah, I guess I wouldn't mind doing that,” Jim admitted, almost sheepish.</p><p>“You're just mad that you won’t have an excuse to talk to Claire,” Tobias snarked.</p><p>“Which is not exactly a priority, as tempting as it might be for Mr. Lake,” Strickler sighed, feeling pain pulse behind his eyes.</p><p>“Can we stop with this line of conversation now? I get it, okay,” Jim muttered dejectedly.</p><p>“I did warn you,” Strickler said. “You won’t be able to have a normal high school experience, and you won’t be able to do most of the things you were looking forward to. As admirable as your goal to help is, this is not your responsibility. You are a mere child, and I’d rather you not take up this mantle in the name of helping me. It is not a sin to be young, to not want to bear the weight of the world.”</p><p>“Absolutely not,” Jim said with a hardened voice, finally looking up. “I won’t let you kill yourself because of some misguided sense of responsibility. I know it won’t be easy, but I said I’d do it, so I will.”</p><p>“And where Jim goes, I follow,” Tobias said with utter conviction. “If he wants to shoulder this burden, then I have to help him.”</p><p>Strickler exhaled, letting exhaustion haze over his mind as briefly let his weary body sink into the plush chair under him.</p><p>“Well, I suppose if you’re so determined, then there’s not much else I can do to convince you otherwise.” Strickler hollowly smiled. “I’ll do my best to keep you safe then, Young Atlas and Prometheus.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Finally, we reach the Young Atlas part! I also needed something for Toby and in some versions of the mythology, Epimetheus is Atlas' brother, though he's more often paired with his other brother, Prometheus. But you know, I'll work with it.  Also the whole "it's not a sin to be young" bit was absolutely inspired by "It's not a sin to be a child." from JJK's only decent adult figure, Nanami Kento. I love me some mentors who don't want children to commit homicide.</p><p>RIP to Jim, but like, I just don't think that he would be able to feasibly join the play, since it was so incidental the first time around and he doesn't have a magic suit of armor anymore. Claire will still be important, but he'll have to bond with her outside of the play, which poses more of a problem but eh, NotEnrique will also be here soon too. But next chapter we should get back to Trollmarket which shall be fun, then also... Barbara! Woo! Who's excited? Me. I am. Anyways, see y'all next time.</p>
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